The Robin and The Raven
by MukuMukuApuWaA
Summary: Validar is not the carrier of the Fell bloodline, but his son still is. In a role reversal, Validar takes his child and flees Plegia, hoping to raise the boy in peace. With the soul of Grima inside his son though, their future is full of anything but peace. Alternate timeline, alternate story, some spoilers for FEA.
1. Chapter 1: A Choice

Chapter 1: A Choice

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"Lady Emmeryn! Exalt!"

Still clothed in her formal green sage attire, the young blonde-haired girl rubbed her eyes and sat up straight. The hour was late, and the howling winds and pouring rain on the castle roof had put her to sleep. Despite her exhaustion, she was alert and focused as one of the Ylissean guards knelt before her. "What's wrong? Is it Chrom? Lissa?" she asked worriedly.

"N-no, Your Grace," the guard replied. "Both of them are asleep and guarded- you have no need to worry." She paused. "You do however have a guest. The night watch captured him and he demanded to speak with you himself. He appears to be wearing Plegian garb."

Immediately, Emmeryn was suspicious. It was late, she was relatively unarmed, and just as the riots against her were calming down would make for an excellent time for a Plegian assassin to infiltrate their borders and stir up conflict again. Having only been the exalt for four years, Emmeryn knew little of the struggles that went on behind the scenes for her life, but she was no fool. Standing from her throne, the girl straightened her hairpiece and grabbed her staff.

"I will not turn away someone in need," she declared softly. She couldn't help but wonder: was the declaration to her guard or to herself? Her voice had trembled. "Let him in. I want guards at the door, but do not let them any closer than that. Wait until I signal otherwise."

"My lady… Is that wise?"

Emmeryn sighed. "No, it is not, Phila. But if a stranger asks for the mercy of the Exalt herself, the odds are that he will not want our conversation to be overheard by others." Holding her head a little higher, the Ylissean monarch descended the steps and motioned for the guard to rise. "We must trust the people. Showing that we are overly suspicious of anyone goes against all that we've worked for these past few years. Plegia is not an inherent threat. Even if no one is watching, I want to hold ourselves to that standard. I know you agree with me."

A ghost of a smile crossed the guard's mouth. "It is why I requested to become your bodyguard. I admire that in you." She followed Emmeryn into the next room, which remained empty except for two lower ranking guards stationed there. Temporarily, the Exalt's personal guard left her side and whispered to the others. One left to go retrieve their visitor. "Your Grace, there is one more thing you should know," Phila said as she returned to the girl. "The man… He is not alone. There is a child with him."

"A child?" Emmeryn echoed softly. Before she even had time to process this piece of information, the doors opened, and the mystery man was escorted inside. His long, dark hair was stringy and slick from the downpour outside, and the bags under his eyes helped the girl realize this man had not slept in quite some time. He definitely looked Plegian; his skin was dark and his purple tactician's coat was adorned with Grimleal symbols on its sleeves. Emmeryn looked for the child Phila spoke of, but as the man turned towards her, she saw it was hiding behind his legs, gripping one of the man's hands tightly.

"Exalt," the man said as he knelt, keeping the child close to him, "thank you for allowing me to speak with you. I know the hour is late, but I have traveled far, and I need your help."

"Please," Emmeryn said, "stand. Phila, will you please fetch this man and his companion something warm to eat?" The light-haired teen looked at her Exalt in shock, but begrudgingly nodded and left them alone with the other guards at the door.

"Thank you, Your Grace. Your generosity is much appreciated." Despite Emmeryn's invitation to stand, the man continued to kneel. Though the child hid behind the coat he wore, she could see that the man was hugging the child to him ferociously. "My name… My name is Validar. I am a follower of the Grimleal religion and a tactician in King Gangrel's ranks. I am fleeing Plegia, and I seek asylum here for me and my son."

He failed to elaborate, and Emmeryn held her ground. "Validar, this request of yours is not one I can easily accept without further details. Why are you deserting Plegia?" The girl kept this to herself, but a request for temporary asylum was something almost any solider could grant. For this man to come directly to her instead suggested something dire, and Emmeryn would not endanger the capitol city if it could be helped.

Validar's gaze flicked to the soldiers by the door. "My situation is a complex one. Your Grace, this is something that will very much matter to you personally, and so I wish to share my information with you personally. Please." His tired, worried eyes showed her all she needed to see- there wasn't a hint of malice within them. This was a desperate man, a scared man.

A trustworthy man.

Emmeryn followed his gaze and motioned for her Ylissean soldiers to leave them be. Phila was coming back soon, so if anything went in a direction she did not expect, the girl would do her utmost to hold the attacker off until her bodyguard returned. Once her and the Plegian were alone, she stepped towards him. "Speak."

Validar exhaled a breath of relief. "Thank you," he said once more. "Now I… I cannot reveal much, because I'm a fairly low-ranking mage within the Grimleal, but I know things about what they are planning. Ever since you called off the war between Ylisse and Plegia, Gangrel has gotten restless and irritable. He desires the Fire Emblem, but he's not the only one. The Grimleal planted that desire into his head because that relic holds the key to unlocking the very god we worship from his slumber, and nothing will stop them from making that a reality." He paused and looked up at Emmeryn's face. He expected her to be confused, expected her to think he was delusional, but he saw no expression indicating either.

"Go on."

"As you know, the blood of the Exalted Dragon, Naga, runs in your family's bloodline. In the Grimleal order, a sacred family has had the responsibility of passing down the blood of the Fell Dragon, Grima. Like you know from firsthand experience, it can take time for a mark of this heritage to appear. Your family bears the Brand of the Exalt, but in the Fell bloodline, it is the Mark of Grima that manifests. While the Brand does not allow for any special gifts, one who bears the Mark becomes a candidate to be Grima's vessel. His resurrection, as it were." Slowly, Validar urged the child with him forward and into the light. He was small, maybe a year or so younger than Emmeryn's own brother. Like Validar, the boy had long, black hair and dark skin, but there was something off about him. For one thing, a single streak of white ran through his hair, and his dull eyes seemed to change color as he moved in the light. Though she knew what was coming, the Exalt still found herself surprised when the mage before her removed the boy's right glove from his hand.

The Mark of Grima.

"You see, I wed the woman who carries the Fell bloodline. I was a young, devoted follower, and I didn't think about the future I had in front of me. Soon, she gave birth to a son- my son- and for the past seven years of his life, I have only laid eyes on him seven times. She was not born with the full Mark of Grima, and she was hungry for him to be. For seven years… For seven years this woman has groomed my son to invite a bloodthirsty dragon into his soul, and just a few days ago, it seemed everything finally paid off. She got her wish. The boy… My child is to be Grima's vessel. He is to be the end of the world as we know it."

Emmeryn inhaled deeply, letting her eyes rest on the boy. The more Validar had spoken, the more she could see how different he appeared. The child hardly blinked, his gaze was empty and distant, and there were signs of bruising and abuse on his wrists and neck. Looking at the patterns… Had this boy been shackled? "Validar, I don't understand. Why have you brought this boy here? Why do you seek asylum here? If what you say is true and the Grimleal are controlling Gangrel, then what is to stop them from sending soldiers into the Halidom and hunting you down to get him back?"

The child retreated towards Validar again, and the man slipped his glove back on to cover the Mark. "Your Grace, I am begging you to help me and my son disappear. Give us a life here! After seeing the things that were done to him, the kinds of methods they used to teach him the dark arts…" He stopped, taking his son's hand in his own. "I may not be part of a religion that you understand, but you understand love. You are a kind, benevolent Exalt who is setting her war-torn Halidom on the path to peace after fifteen years. I am simply asking you to believe in the love I have for my son. After everything that happened, I lost my faith. No child, regardless of their importance deserves to be hurt like they hurt him. I risked my life to cross the desert and bring us here, all because I knew you were the only one that would show mercy. This boy may have been born with Fell blood inside him, but if I can raise him away from that, then it doesn't have to define him. The century could pass and Grima would never have to come forward and threaten the world."

"…You do understand that if I called upon the actions of _my_ bloodline, I could find a way to strike this child down now? I too could ensure that Grima does not rise in this century, and it would be in a much more guaranteed way. Have you not considered that?"

Validar's desperation only heightened, and his fear danced in his crimson eyes like flame. "Exalt… Please…"

Emmeryn shook her head. "Keeping you both here is a risk I cannot take. You are a well-recognized mage in the Grimleal order, and that boy is their dragon reincarnated. I feel your pain, but I have to protect my people. As you said, I have worked hard to bring us out of war, and I do not intend for one simple mistake to throw us back into it. I must repair the damage my father did to this land and its people." She paused. "I am only thirteen. I am not what the rulers of other lands would call "experienced," and if I make a choice that could severely impact our future like this one, I will be called too naïve and too young. I will be called weak and a poor leader. If I am to lead my people into an era of peace, how can I be seen as a poor leader? I have to be strong. I have to be smart."

"Your Grace, please… We have nowhere else to go. She will find us in Regna Ferox, she will find us in your rural lands to the south. I am well aware of the fact that the most proactive option is to kill the child now when he is weak and vulnerable, but I'm here because I know that. If I fail to raise the boy the right way, his demise is right here, in this very castle. He can be struck down in an instant. Please, I… I don't believe he is the monster his blood says he has to be. He is my child, and I believe in him. The moment his actions say otherwise, I am giving you permission to end him with the Falchion. But please, please… Allow me to try."

Emmeryn hesitated. She weighed a thousand options in her head. This was a moment that she knew would define her and Ylisse's future, no matter what choice she made.

Instead of giving the man an answer, the Exalt knelt before the pair, now on eye-level with the child. "What is your name?" she asked softly. "My name is Emmeryn, but my brother and sister call me Emm."

The boy did not respond. He appeared to study her face and the mark on her forehead, but he did not speak. Validar instead replied. "He has no name. Until a child of the Fell bloodline has been confirmed or denied as His vessel, they are named Grima."

The dark-haired child seemed to respond slightly to that, but it was as if his reactions were delayed or he somehow was blocking their conversation out. He had truly been hurt, Emm realized. "Grima?" she echoed. "That's not a very good name to use while you're hiding. If you are to stay here, you'll have to change it." The Exalt nodded. "Yes, you'll both have to."

"Does that mean...?"

Emmeryn shook her head. "Not officially, no. This is a decision I cannot make by myself, but I will allow you both to stay here in the castle until my council has said otherwise. I will keep as much of the Grimleal and his heritage out of this as possible, but I make no guarantees."

Validar's eyes quivered as if he were on the verge of tears. "Thank you, Your Grace, thank you. Whatever you need in return, I promise I will do my best to provide it. If you need tactical advice, I am glad to supply it to you. Even if we are denied… I want you to know how much this means to me."

She smiled. "Of course. But I am adamant about your names. I cannot go to my council requesting I give asylum to Grima himself. Do you have another name for the boy?"

"I do not," Validar admitted. His eyes wandered the room, hoping some kind of parental inspiration would dawn on him. Though warmly lit, the only thing that adorned the walls were artists' renditions of Ylisstol's castle during the four seasons. Each season was graced by a different kind of bird in the image, ranging from a dove in the summer to a robin in the spring.

Following his eyes once more, Emmeryn stood and rested a hand on the paintings. "These represent how our Halidom changes between the seasons. Many things stay the same, like the castle and the tree line, but the visitors we receive change. Like the robins in the spring? They're here all year, but they tend to appear more frequently in the sunshine. Their presence ushers in the bright new season and the hope that comes with it. I think that for you and your son, hope is something you need to hold onto tightly for your future."

He listened to her words intently, but just before he could speak, her personal bodyguard returned with blankets and what smelled like warm stew in hand. His son seemed more alert now that he smelled food, and Validar felt relief in his chest. It had been days since they'd eaten full meals.

"My lady, shall I escort them to our guest quarters?" Phila asked. "It is very late, and you need to retire. If you have not finished this meeting, we can continue in the morning."

The Exalt nodded, taking her hand off the glossy and textured canvas that hung on the wall. "Yes, please. Make sure that they are comfortable, and as soon as they are situated, please send word to the Hierarch and council that I wish to meet tomorrow at noon."

"Of course, my lady," Phila said. She dipped her head and turned to the two Plegians. "Please, follow me. I'm sure you're both exhausted, so let's get you situated as soon as possible." Validar nodded his agreement and stood, taking his son's hand in his own. The man walked with a slight limp, as if he were injured, but Emmeryn said nothing. She should not treat this man unless he was a known, welcome guest here, and it was her hope that would be the case soon enough.

"May you both rest well," Emmeryn said as the pair started to follow Phila into the halls of the castle.

"You as well, Your Grace," Validar replied. His son seemed to just inch along with his father's guidance, but soon, he was stopped dead in his tracks. Validar turned back towards the girl, his eyes lingering on the painting a moment more before he spoke. "…Robin," he finally said. "My son's name is Robin. Please share that with the council tomorrow when you speak of us."

Emmeryn did her best to hide her smile. "Of course. I will tell them Robin and his father mean us no harm. I will do my best to keep you safe here," she promised. This seemed to satisfy the man, and with that sad look in his eye, he nodded and edged the boy forward, holding his hand tightly all the while.

"Robin…" the Exalt repeated to herself once they had left. "May you be a bright and hopeful spirit for Ylisse…"

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[ Thank you for reading! If you have feedback or comments, please leave a review! I hope to continue this soon. ]


	2. Chapter 2: A Friend

Chapter 2: A Friend

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As the morning sun rose over Ylisstol, a young boy woke up well rested for the first day in a series of months. His father, the man who escorted him all the way here, was still fast asleep and recovering his strength from their journey. It had been so long, the boy thought. His feet ached like they'd never ached before, and the shoes he'd been given by his precious mother were all but worn out now. Their craftsmanship was questionable at best.

Careful not to wake his father, the boy slipped out of bed and let his bare feet touch the cold stone floor. It was almost soothing, in a strange way. The halls he'd stayed in during his life in Plegia were worn with sand and magic before they were placed into the flooring, but Ylisse's stones had no sharp edges or uneven surfaces; they had been painstakingly crafted and polished by man, not magic.

That was one of the many differences that set Ylisstol's castle and Plegia's apart, but the boy didn't want to think too deeply about it. He never really understood everything that had happened to him as he grew up under the watchful eyes of his mother, but the way the man who called himself his father reacted told him it wasn't something that was benefitting him. Being locked away for weeks at a time had taken a toll on the boy, even if he didn't know how to put those experiences and feelings into words.

Slowly, he looked around the room. There was one window, placed too high up for him to get to if he wanted, and one door that led back out into the hall they'd come from the night before. Judging by the soft shadow that he could see if he peeked under the doorway, there was a guard outside. Why it was they needed to assign guards to the boy and his father, he had no clue, but he shrugged it off.

"Robin," he suddenly said aloud. He didn't know where it had come from or why he said it, but his whisper-like voice was clearly enough to wake his father. Perhaps the man had not been sleeping as heavily as he first thought.

"Son, did you say something?" Validar asked as he stirred. The child was standing in front of the door to the outside hall, his dark hair all tangled and eyes half-lidded with sleep. Something about the sight put the Plegian mage at ease- he'd never seen his child so relaxed and rested.

The boy nodded, leaving his spot by the door. He sat on the edge of the bed and faced his father. "Last night… You told that girl to present me as Robin. Mother said my name is Grima. Not too long ago, when she saw that mark on my hand, she said my name would _always_ be Grima. Why did you lie to that girl and tell her something else?"

Validar hesitated. All this time, his son had barely spoken to him, and for a while, he'd wondered if he could even speak at all. It was only logical he'd ask about his mother, about why they were here… Validar hadn't expected it to come so quickly though. He took a deep breath. "Your mother… She believes you're someone very special, so she gave you a special name in the hopes that you'd grow up to be as powerful and the person whose name it is. If we have you use that name here, well I… I think it would be easy for her to find you again."

"But why don't we want her to find us? She's my mother. She probably misses me a lot. I don't want her to be sad and miss me."

If he'd struggled to answer the boy's first question, he absolutely struggled to answer this one. There was a lot he wouldn't understand until he was older, and it felt wrong to teach him what being Grimleal meant when that was a part of their lives they'd need to hide now.

"I wish I could tell you," Validar said softly. "And someday, I will. But right now, I want you to grow up and live a good life. I don't want you to be locked in a room and starved just to see what will happen- I want you to make friends and find your own path. Your mother is an awful woman, and she no longer sees you as her son. She sees you as a tool. It's not fair to live an entire life being someone else's tool, son. That's why we want to stay away from her."

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared at his father curiously. His mother didn't even see him as her son? It wasn't a good thing to be locked away? It was all difficult to process, but slowly, the boy nodded. "So, you want me to call myself Robin now? Like the bird?"

"Yes, exactly like the bird!" Validar said with a small smile. "And I don't want you to just call yourself Robin, I want you to respond to it too. It's who you are now."

"Robin…" he echoed softly. "It doesn't sound like your name or Mother's name. Is that the point?"

"Yes, that is the point. Soon, I'll go by a different name as well, but I want you to know that I will still always be your father. Do you understand that?"

Robin didn't say anything in return, instead nodding to show Validar he knew what the man meant. Outside their door, he heard footsteps approaching, and so he had chosen not to reveal his voice any longer. His mother had told him his voice was sacred and powerful, like the voice of a god. It still felt wrong to speak to anyone but her or her trusted servants, but it was easier to talk to his father than he thought.

Validar seemed surprised by the knock on the door, but Robin sat there blankly, almost expecting it. "Come in," the man said. He hoped to see the Exalt Emmeryn again, but in her place was the light-haired bodyguard she had close to her the night before. Phila, he remembered.

"Dear guest of the Exalt," she began, "I hope you slept well. Lady Emmeryn has been speaking with her council, and they request your presence directly. There are some things they wish to clarify with you, and she has assured me that your child will be taken care of while you are away. If you could tidy up as soon as possible, I brought you both a set of clothes to-"

"I'm sorry," Validar interrupted. "I can't leave him alone. I figured I'd have to speak but please, allow the boy to come with me." Discreetly, Validar tucked Robin's hand under one of their loose blankets, making sure the guard did not see his Mark.

"S-sir, I'm afraid he can't. The council has already granted the boy- a Plegian refugee- asylum based on the information the Exalt has given them, but their real concern lies with you. They believe he's not relevant to your ability to stay here. Please, trust me when I tell you your son really will be in the best care. Lady Emmeryn told them not to keep you long." Phila seemed nervous as she spoke, shuffling from foot to foot every now and again. Validar couldn't help but feel sorry for her, but to leave Robin alone…

"If I do not go, do you know what they will most likely decide to do with me?" he asked.

"Treat you as a spy, sir. They'd send you back to wherever it was you've come from, and I'm certain they'd keep your child here too."

So that was all there was to it. Validar looked to Robin and brushed some of the boy's wild hair back behind his ears. "Is it okay with you if I go? I'll be as quick as I can, I promise."

Robin nodded, but as he did so, he whispered: "As long as you get to stay here with me. I don't want to be alone." His voice was softer than the man had ever heard it before, soft enough that not even Phila heard it. Validar's smile returned to his face, as if telling the boy that he had not ever planned to leave him alone again.

"Very well, miss Phila. If you'll allow me a moment to prepare myself, I'll gladly take those clothes you've brought with you. I can meet you outside in a few moments." She said nothing, but she stepped forward and extended her hands for Validar to take the clothes, which Robin took as a sign that was acceptable to her.

The pale tans and blues on the Ylissean clothes seemed out of place against his father's skin, but the man looked much more refined. He had shed his purple tactician's coat and hung it on the wall before turning to Robin. "Can you get dressed on your own?"

"I can."

"Good. Please, be careful. If something seems amiss, I'll find you as soon as I can. Please stay with whoever Phila assigns to watch over you. Do you understand?"

"I do."

His responses may have been plain, but the confidence in them was reassuring. For all Validar knew, his son had been surrounded by servants who did everything for him. So far, he was finding that while the conditions Robin had lived in had been excruciating and terrible, he appeared to be capable of handling his needs. Like the man had told the Exalt the night before, he had only seen Robin seven times- once each birthday. The rooms were always dark, cold, and empty, but somehow, the blood of Grima carried the boy through all the suffering that was inflicted upon him. He knew Robin was often left alone in hopes that the voice of the Fell Dragon would permeate his mind, but when he had tried to ask the child during their first night on the run, he had not responded. He had certainly come far in the past few days; he was able to express himself through speech, which Validar has also been unsure he could do.

It was still a minute or two before Validar left the room, and instead of being escorted by Phila, Robin noticed a younger boy with tousled brown hair bow slightly and motion which way to go. This boy must have been around the same age as the Exalt, and like Phila, he wore Ylisse's crest emblazoned on his chest. Validar exchanged one more look with his son before following this new boy's directions, and Robin peered out the door slightly to see that Phila was still there.

He tiptoed over to the door and poked his head out. Phila looked at him curiously, and Robin pointed towards himself with his eyebrows furrowed. Understanding what he meant, the girl nodded. "Once you get dressed, I'll take you to meet Lord Chrom and his caretaker. I have to go back and be with the Exalt, but she asked me to personally make sure you were looked after and didn't get lost on the way." She offered him a smile. "I'll give you a minute, but we really have to get going. Is that okay?"

Robin nodded in reply and softly closed the door. The clothing he'd been given to wear was made for a child slightly taller than him, but he didn't mind. There were no shoes to wear, so he shrugged and remained barefoot. No way would he go back to those frayed sandals he'd worn on the way here…

After he tucked the oversized shirt into his brown pants, Robin made sure to slip his gloves back on to cover his hands. While he didn't understand the reason why he had to hide that strange mark, he knew it was important that he did. Though his hair was matted and filthy, he didn't have anything but his fingers to run through it. When he had been in the presence of Gangrel, his mother had always made sure he was presentable. Sometimes, she'd even cut his hair short again, despite how fast it grew back. It didn't seem like he'd quite have the resources available to prepare for an encounter with royalty this time.

Robin knew no sense of shame as he closed the door behind him and rejoined Phila in the hall, but she seemed somehow… Unimpressed with his appearance. Her look made the boy try and slick his hair back, but to no avail. "Here, I have something that can help," Phila said, kneeling down to his eye level. From her wrist, she pulled a thin piece of cloth. She reached behind the boy and grabbed his hair gently, tying it back into a loose ponytail. It wasn't the fanciest, but it hid some of his mess a little more. "There!" she said happily. "Now you can keep it out of your eyes for the rest of the day. If you'd like, I could loan that tie to you for future use too, because your hair looks very good pulled back like that," she complimented. Robin knew she was trying to make him feel comfortable around her, but her words felt so genuine that he cracked a smile and nodded somewhat eagerly. When she started to walk, he was happy to follow.

It didn't look like they were traveling to the part of the castle he and his father had been in the night before, and Robin memorized their route by looking at the various artwork on the walls. It all seemed arbitrary there, but if it helped ground him, he was glad to look. Phila didn't speak to him, as if she could tell he were deep in thought, but an idea suddenly occurred to the boy that he had to have answered.

"Is Chrom the Exalt's brother?"

The bodyguard looked down at him. "Yes, he is. Have you heard his name before?" she asked.

At first, he nodded, but changed his mind and shook his head. "Last night, she told me she had a brother and a sister. Chrom doesn't seem like a girl's name, and you called him 'Lord Chrom.' I just thought it made sense."

"You certainly have a good memory," Phila said with a chuckle. "Lord Chrom just turned eight this past month, so I guess he's around your age. His caretaker is one of the best, so I do hope the two of you will be able to get along for this short period of time." She paused. "He's… Well, you seem like a quiet boy. Lord Chrom is not. He's always wanted to adventure and become a knight as soon as possible. If you're uncomfortable at first, I implore you to remember that this won't be for long. Hopefully the council will finish with your father soon."

"I hope so too," Robin said. Internally, he sighed. This Chrom didn't seem like someone he'd get along well with, but at least he wouldn't be left alone while his father tried to convince the Ylisseans to let him stay. Emmeryn and Phila had been okay to be around, and even if the boy was scared, they did their best to be welcoming and treat him nicely. For Chrom, Robin guessed he'd be a little more oblivious to the fear and hesitation he was showing. That was how things typically were for more outgoing people- Robin knew this from experience. Gangrel was his only main experience to draw from, but it wasn't so farfetched in the boy's mind to see young male royalty as having the same attitudes. Gangrel was a little bit older though… Did that mean he was more mature than this Chrom person? If that was the case, Robin couldn't wait to get this over with.

"Robin? Did you hear what I said?"

Phila's voice brought him back to reality. They now stood in front of a set of majestic looking doors, and the guard's hand was raised to knock. Robin must have zoned out as they walked, which was not an uncommon occurrence. Often, it was far easier to retreat into his own head than share conversation with anyone else, and in fact, that was something encouraged by his mother.

Robin shook his said.

"That's okay," Phila reassured. "I just wanted to let you know that Chrom and his caretaker know very little about you. They know you're a refugee from Plegia, but that's about it. I'm not sure what you've heard about Ylisseans, but not all of us hate your people. Plegians hurt Chrom's family over the course of the war, but I can assure you if you were worried about it, he will not hate you because of your heritage."

Though the concern hadn't been at the forefront of Robin's thoughts, part of him was glad to know this. His mother shared very little of the outside world's affairs, but the fifteen-year war between Plegia and Ylisse was one thing she could not keep from him. She spoke of countless battles, massive bloodshed, and eventually, she told him how Ylisse's cruel Exalt was slain. Ylisse was the enemy in her version of the story, but now, Robin would be alongside someone his age who saw those events very differently from him. No, he would be seeing those events opposite, as a matter of fact.

"Thank you for telling me," the boy said. "Um, can you please let me know the decision about my father as soon as you hear something?"

"Of course I can," she promised before lightly rapping her knuckles on the door. An older woman with a kind face opened it, and reading something on the floor beyond her was a boy with dark blue hair. He looked nothing like the blonde Exalt that had met with Robin, but for some reason, he did not doubt that was Chrom, the prince of Ylisse. "Evelyn, this is Robin," Phila explained. "He shouldn't have to stay with you for too long, but if there are any problems, please let me know."

The woman- Evelyn- smiled down at the boy and opened the door a little wider. "It's nice to meet you, Robin. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, I'll just be a minute." She was going to ask Phila about him, he thought. It wasn't surprising. Even if she had been told he was a refugee, this woman was stuck with him and little to no explanation as to why. Being suspicious was absolutely understandable. She even closed the door behind him as he entered, allowing her conversation with the other Ylissean to remain private from him.

Robin sat in a corner of the room, curling himself up to stay warm. A fire was going, but he still felt so cold in this place. Ylisse was no Plegia, that was for sure. As he adjusted, he noticed Chrom had laid his eyes on him, and his gaze was not letting up. With a slight frown, Robin met the prince's stare. He had expected coldness or more suspicion, but in a turn of events, he saw pure mischief in those eyes.

"Did Phila say your name's Robin?" Chrom whispered, scooting closer to the boy. He left whatever book he'd been reading behind with ease, almost as if he hadn't been reading it intently at all.

To answer the prince, Robin only nodded.

"Oh, don't talk much, do you? That's okay. I heard Phila tell Evelyn that you're a Plegian Refugee, and I just want you to know, I think it's very cool that you get to be a Ylissean now. I don't know why but I've got this feeling you and I could totally be great friends!" Chrom was now an arm's length away from him, and he closed this distance by extending his hand. "I'm Chrom, as you might know. It's nice to meet you!"

It was his right hand that was extended… Robin's mother had warned him not to touch anyone with his own precious right hand, but what else was he supposed to do? His mark was gloved and hidden, so it couldn't be a problem, right?

After hesitating, Robin took the other boy's hand and shook it.

"Listen to me," Chrom said with a serious look in his eye. "There are better things to do than sit in a corner, you know. It gets real boring around here, so what to you say we go on a little adventure?"

"Adventure?"

"Yeah, adventure! Look how occupied the old lady is now- she wouldn't notice if we slipped into the courtyard for a few minutes. It's just right outside the window too!" Chrom frowned, let go of Robin's hand, and rose to his feet. "Come on, it'll be fun."

"Do you do this often?" Robin asked softly.

"Yep! I get scolded by Emm a lot, but it's worth it. And now, it'll be way more fun with someone my age! I'm always stuck having to get this older kid to come with me… His name's Frederick and he's no fun. He always rats me out after we come back." The prince paused. "You wouldn't do that, would you?"

Robin shook his head, but as he watched Chrom expertly open the window without making a sound, he had his doubts. "I… I can't go though. My dad told me to wait with whoever they told me to. I have to wait here… If something happens to him, I need to know."

Chrom pondered what Robin said, but he still climbed onto the windowsill. He was quite a bit taller than Robin, so he got up there with ease, but if they were both to leave, it would be more of a challenge for the other boy. "Well, you're supposed to be staying with me and my caretaker, right? I'm half of that, so I think you'd be forgiven." The Plegian was still hesitant, but any thoughts he had were swept away when Chrom spoke again. "Okay, well, why don't I show you around? As a welcoming tour? Is that better?"

"Slightly." Robin shrugged. "Maybe my father would be okay with that… He said he wanted me to make Ylissean friends. This is… How you do that, right?"

Chrom giggled. "Sure, it is! Now here, give me your hand. I'll help you up."

Once more, the prince extended his arm, and once more, Robin took it.

* * *

[ Thank you for reading! If you have feedback or comments, please leave a review! I hope to continue this soon. ]


	3. Chapter 3: The New Tactician

Chapter 3: The New Tactician

* * *

"Father… Father!"

"What is it, my son?"

"I felt something… Like a hand on my shoulder. I'm scared!"

"Ah, don't worry Robin, that was just me."

"Oh… I'm sorry. It's just that ever since yesterday when I-"

Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the terrified gaze of the young boy sitting upright in bed.

"What's wrong?" his father asked,

"I… I heard The Voice again. It was laughing, asking me a question I didn't want to hear."

"I know son, I know. Everything is going to be all right, I promise. You're going to be okay. You are in control of your thoughts, you are in control of your actions, and you are in control of your fate. Nothing will change that, not even your bloodline."

"I understand, Father."

"Robin, please promise me you won't ever forget that."

"I promise, Father."

Thunder boomed, muting the whimpers coming from the child. He would not sleep well that night, nor any night thereafter.

* * *

_Eight years later_

* * *

He woke up drenched in his own sweat, but like every other night recently, Robin would blame it on the heat. He didn't dare acknowledge the dreams he had for fear that his father would start to worry, and with everything that was happening, Ylisse's chief tactician didn't need distractions.

Robin tossed in his bed slightly, too uncomfortable to get up. His body was heavy, like a mountain of steel rested on his chest. Even though he'd slept, he did not feel rested. Positive he had dark circles under his eyes, Robin gently raised one of his hands to his face and ran his fingertips over his skin, which was shockingly cold. For how warm he was, touching his skin was like touching ice.

The sun had not yet fully risen in the sky, but that did not mean he could stay like this. His father was surely awake by now, anxiously awaiting the return of Ylissean scouts for their morning reports. Today would be like any other for the both of them: Validar would pour over all the information he had about Plegia's increasingly common attacks and Robin would occasionally give his input when he was asked. They had a simple life- a good life.

Begrudgingly, Robin pulled himself out of bed and slipped into a pair of boots. He would have changed out of his sweat-soaked clothes, but the heat they provided him was almost… Grounding. He needed to stay grounded. Closing his dark eyes, Robin took a deep breath, followed by a long exhale. He stood, pulled his mage's cloak around him, and headed off into the castle.

_Grounded_, he thought to himself. _I will stay grounded._

Several of Ylisstol's soldiers and knights were up and about as well, but he did not stop to exchange greetings or make eye contact. In the hall leading to the throne room, Robin spotted Frederick and Chrom, the latter of the two looking rather impatient. Most likely, they were waiting to speak with Emmeryn, and by the gods, Robin did not envy Chrom. When he'd first gotten acquainted with Frederick, he and the Ylissean were… At odds. Frederick, having recently earned the title of "Frederick the Wary" but his character trait into practice very early on during Robin's stay. Their disagreements and hostilities had never ended in violence, but mostly because Frederick respected Emmeryn too much to go against someone she trusted.

Continuing to move through the castle, Robin made his way to a spiraling staircase that he climbed up with a little more speed than before. The second floor of the castle was home to his father's chambers, as well as an entrance to a small garden that the two often frequented. Because daylight had not yet fully set in, the lanterns were still lit, providing the slight hint of smoke and dryness in the air.

With a smile, the teen brushed some of his dark hair out of his eyes and headed into the garden, spotting his father almost immediately. He sat at a small stone table that had something akin to a chessboard carved into it, and the seat across from him was open, as usual. Next to him on the ground was a parcel wrapped in leather, but it wasn't something his son would likely question. Lifting his eyes from the wooden pieces he'd been studying, the older man beckoned for Robin to sit.

"You're up early," Validar mused, moving the pieces back to where their starting positions. While from a distance, one may think he was playing chess, this was a tactical table, set up like a mock battlefield with varying terrain and obstacles. Emmeryn had the table commissioned for Validar specifically, mostly so he could have a space to be alone with his thoughts. Robin had soon picked up the habit of watching his father play on a daily basis, to the point where they started to become each other's competitors.

"I'm only away because you're awake," Robin replied. "I don't want you to be out here all alone."

"Ah, is that it?" He chuckled. "Boy, I know your intentions by now. You don't have to get up before sunrise to challenge me to a game of tactics, you know."

Robin shrugged his shoulders. "I know, I know. But I feel so much sharper after we do this, and it helps me learn my magic that much faster! Playing before the day starts helps keep me grounded." There was a slight pause in conversation between them, and for a moment, he regretted saying that. "So… What dire situation are you going to put my troops in this time?"

"Robin, I…" Robin rose his gaze from the table to his father, and instead of seeing sadness or worry in his eyes, he only saw excitement. "I think it's time we talked about your tactical progress. You may think I've been utterly annihilating your armies these past few rounds, but to be honest, you're starting to get to the point where it's hard to keep up with you. Sometimes you'll be thinking two, three, even five steps ahead of me, and I cannot tell you how impressive that is for someone your age."

"Father, is this going somewhere, or are you just laying down a preemptive excuse for you finally losing a round?"

Validar teasingly glared at his son before nodding. "Yes, there is a point. Now, imagine for me that this is Lord Chrom." Carefully, he took a black wooden piece three tiers high and set it behind the mountain terrain on the board. "He's young, he's learning not to be as arrogant, and he's navigating the leadership role that comes with being a prince and the new head of the Shepherds. However, he's never been out on the battlefield for real yet."

Unsure if he was following his father correctly or not, Robin nodded.

"Now this," Validar continued, reaching across the table to grab a handful of one tiered white pieces, "is a group of brigands that have made camp just inside our borders." The tactician set the pieces on the opposite side of the mountain terrain as Chrom. "After Phila dispatched her pegasus knights for reconnaissance, it was discovered that these men have no allegiance to Plegia or Ferox, and are just loners. They have started to cause some trouble to a small town nearby, and so that is why we now are alerted to their presence. What would you suggest Lord Chrom's plan of action to deal with these fiends be?"

"Can I add other soldiers?"

"Doesn't matter. There are no restrictions right now."

Robin pondered the scenario for a minute before reaching to grab other dark colored pieces. Next to Chrom, he placed three one-tiered pieces and one two-tiered piece, then studied the board quietly.

"Why would you do that?" Validar asked, careful not to interrupt the boy. "I said there were no restrictions, so why wouldn't you send other three-tiered pieces in place of the ones or twos? Did you not consider it?"

Robin responded almost instantaneously, continuing to look over the board. "No, I did, but it wouldn't have made much sense. You made an effort to portray Chrom as a new leader, so I figured it would be a good opportunity for him to test his leadership abilities with soldiers he'll be commanding in a few years. The battle is fairly low stakes in regards to collateral damage, and my guess is that the overall skill level of the brigands is lower than a normal mercenary group sent by Plegia along the border. Those factors make this an ideal opportunity to send Chrom on a mission with other young Shepherds so they can build a sense of camaraderie as well as experience. Of course, there would be an adult healer or two watching from afar, but they wouldn't take part in the battle unless absolutely necessary- otherwise it would be like cheating for us. Oh, and I know this isn't real, but the two-tiered piece is probably Frederick, since Emmeryn wouldn't let her kid brother go anywhere without him. He's good, but he's not as good as Chrom, which is why he's two-tiered."

Validar blinked, processing all that the boy had spoken. He had sounded so confident that even if his choice had been wrong, Validar might just have allowed him to try it anyway. "Well then, how would you like to put that into practice?"

"On the board? Of course. I'll clear it and we can start," Robin replied enthusiastically before Validar reached out a hand and stopped him.

"No, Robin. I mean… I mean on an actual battlefield."

Now it was Robin's turn to be surprised. "Oh," was all he could say.

"The situation I proposed to you is true," Validar explained. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "With Lord Chrom now turned sixteen, the time for him to start leading missions is coming ever closer. Along with the Exalt, the council believes that this would be an opportune chance for him… and for you."

"What?" Robin asked, furrowing his brow. "A chance for me? Are you saying that I get to be tactician for this mission?!"

"That is correct."

Robin leapt to his feet, unable to contain himself. This couldn't be real, could it? He'd been forced to go to more magic lessons than strategical ones, so he'd assumed he was being forced more in the direction of a soldier or advisor, but a tactician? Like his father? The smile on his face may have been forced earlier, but it was not forced now. He covered his mouth with his hands, unable to hide his shock and excitement.

"So… I'll assume that is a yes?" Validar asked.

"Yes, absolutely! I'm so honored to be chosen for this! I am chosen for this, right?" he asked in clarification.

His father chuckled. "The council has been wanting to put you on a mission for quite some time, but your recklessness with Lord Chrom persuaded them to wait until you were both slightly more mature."

Robin scoffed. "Recklessness? Father, I cannot think of a single time that Chrom and I have done something reckless together."

Validar shot the boy a look of disapproval- almost like glaring daggers, but if they were blunt and there was no glare involved. "The very first day we stayed here, you two snuck out and got lost in the castle! It took until the next morning to find the two of you, and that was only when Lady Emmeryn herself came and helped. I don't know what that boy did to you, but trouble is running through your veins whenever you're around him. Hopefully, that will not be the case as often when the two of you command your troops together."

Wincing, Robin was reminded of the incident his father spoke of that had occurred almost eight years ago. He remembered how furious Emmeryn and Chrom's caretaker had been with the prince, but the most important thing Robin remembered was how scared Validar was. Luckily, the council would vote to grant him citizenship under a false name, but at the time, it did not look good for his young Plegian son to disappear inside Ylisstol's castle. "Yeah… Yeah. I wouldn't call that a falsehood," Robin said with a sigh. "I'll be better this time, I promise."

"Good," the tactician said firmly. "Your party leaves at midday."

"What?!" Robin sputtered. "Midday as in… Midday today?"

"Correct. Chrom is responsible for assembling your party, but you will be accompanying them as both a fighter and strategist. Your goal is to get everyone home safely and to take the brigands into custody. Several Ylisstol soldiers will be accompanying you for that last part, but the fighting should be in your hands. If there is no fighting required, that would be even better."

Ah, now it was making sense. Chrom and Frederick were probably waiting in the hall to speak with the Exalt about this mission, and the more he thought about it, the more Robin realized they had both been dressed in their armor. Great, so that confirmed Frederick would indeed be going.

"I understand. Thank you for this chance." He bowed his head to his father before standing up straight. "I should probably get going… I should think about this on a real map and get ready to leave. Eat, equip, that sort of thing."

"That would be a wise idea, but hold on just a moment," Validar said. He reached to the ground beside him and lifted the leather parcel, holding it out for Robin to take. The mage only returned the gesture with a look that practically screamed "What's in it?" and so his father added, "I guess you'll have to open it and find out for yourself."

Hesitantly, Robin took the parcel and slowly began to unwrap it. Underneath the leather covering were two objects: a thunder tome and an article of clothing the in the same shade of Ylissean blue as Chrom's cape. Setting the tome on the table, Robin unfolded the clothing as realized it was a cloak. Not a mage's cloak like the one he had, no, but a tactician's cloak. His smile only grew wider as he turned it to see that it was a near exact replica of the one his father wore. It was Plegian in style, but all Plegian symbols and colors had been changed or removed, and Robin held it to his chest with glee.

"Did you have this made?" he asked his father softly.

"I did. Although, if I'm being honest, I've had it for close to a year now. I'd been waiting for the right time to give it to you, and I think now is as good a time as any. The tome however, I did not make. That's just something for you to use in addition to whatever banged up sword they'll decide to give you today," Validar admitted. "If you tear it, don't worry. It isn't meant to last forever on the battlefield."

"No, I know, but I kind of want it to," Robin murmured. "I've wanted to follow in your footsteps and be a tactician for Ylisse, and now it feels like I'm that much closer…" Still beaming, he buried his face in the cloak and inhaled deeply. The fabric smelled of the leather it was cased in, and despite having no memory of that scent, Robin felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. Or maybe that wave wasn't nostalgia, but instead something that would soon become nostalgia. In either case, he couldn't wait to wear it, and went to hug his father. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I promise I'll do you proud."

"You always do me proud, son."

Several moments passed before Robin backed out of their embrace, and he turned to see a Ylissean soldier standing at the edge of the garden. She was probably here to fetch his father, and so Robin collected his things as fast as he could and stood at attention.

"I apologize for interrupting, Raven, but the council has requested your presence. There have been some strange rumors circulating the Plegian border and they would like your insight," the soldier said, addressing Validar. No matter how many times he heard it, Robin still couldn't get used to the name his father had chosen. In hindsight, it made him chuckle how they were both named after birds, but that was mostly due to how it made Validar seem rather uninspired.

"Of course." He turned to look at Robin. "I hope to see you again before you depart, but if I do not, I wish you the best of luck, my son."

"I understand, Father. Good luck to you as well."

Standing tall, Robin saw his father leave with the soldier and head up to the council's chambers. Everything had been sprung on him so quickly, but he was not about to squander the opportunity he was given. Before leaving to his quarters, the mage slid the wooden pieces from the game into their stone compartments on the underside of the tactics table. Most of the brigands Validar had illustrated to him were one tier high on the board, and Robin only hoped that information would be accurate going forward into the coming day.

If he ever lost pieces when he played strategy games against his father, they would be because he failed to save them, not because they were sacrificed for another piece's survival. It just wasn't the way he played. Even in real life, where sacrifices were sometimes necessary to win a war, Robin was determined even now to not let that happen. The odds of a situation demanding that course of action today were low, but his resolve felt firm.

He was grounded. He would control his own fate, as well as the fates of others; that was his job as a tactician.

* * *

[ Thank you for reading! If you have feedback or comments, please leave a review! I hope to continue this soon. ]


	4. Chapter 4: It Returns

Chapter 4: It Returns

* * *

His hands ran through his hair, soft and loose to the touch. Gently, he pulled it back, pulling even the bright streak of white along with the rest of his hair. While no mirror told him where it was, it was like he knew, and almost out of habit, Robin tucked it underneath strands of his thicker, darker hair. Once satisfied with his work, he took a small piece of white cloth and tied that around his rudimentary ponytail, making it look more refined to any eye.

On other days or days where he was given more warning, he would have asked his father to help tie his hair into a braid fit for nobility, but today was not one of those days. Even if he was to step onto a battlefield for the first time, Robin knew this was about more than just battle prowess; he had to make an impression.

Midday was approaching faster than he thought possible, and not long after admiring his new tactician's coat, a knock came at the door to his quarters. Swallowing his nervousness, Robin opened it, and was almost instantly greeted by a bright smile from the young princess Lissa. Her blonde pigtails bounced happily just as she was, and behind her stood Frederick, looking stern and stiff as ever.

"Frederick was told to come get you, but I came to get you first!" Lissa exclaimed cheerfully, opening the door wide. "I can't believe you and my brother and Frederick all get to go on a mission together! It's so exciting!"

"Yes, it certainly is," Robin replied with a small smile. Even in the eight years he'd lived in the castle, Frederick had never quite trusted him, as was evident by the stone-cold gaze directed his way the moment he took a step towards the princess. "Frederick, wouldn't you agree?" A teasing smirk fell upon the mage's face, almost as if returning the older knight's look of displeasure.

The second Lissa turned back to him, Frederick sighed softly and bowed his head. "I would agree. It is indeed… Exciting. But milady, as new as this is, it is also dangerous. Lord Chrom, Robin, or myself may get seriously hurt. A responsibility such as this one is not to be taken lightly."

"Oh, come on Frederick, I knooooow that!" Lissa said, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. "Just you wait though! In a few short years, I'll be out there with you and Robin and Chrom, and we'll all have so much fun together!" The knight said nothing, merely staring back at the princess, and they stayed that way for several seconds before Lissa sighed and slumped her shoulders. "Fiiiine, I'll go. Gotta leave all the fighting to everyone but the princess, right?" Clearly, Frederick's dismissal of her excitement had dejected her, but she didn't let it show for long as she turned to give Robin a brief hug.

"Oh… Um, thank you, Lissa."

"No problem! I just wanted to wish you luck before you headed out," she admitted before leaning closer to him. "Grumpy ol' Frederick over there wouldn't let me wish him luck," she whispered. "How mean is that?"

"Incredibly," Robin agreed in a hushed tone. As she let go of him, he dipped his head, almost mocking Frederick's immense and constant respect for the princess. "We'll be back before you know it, _milady_."

She chuckled at that, while Frederick continued to look unamused. "Well, go on then! Chrom's waiting for you!"

Nodding, he left her side and headed down the stairs where the knight was now indicating with his arm. As he descended, Frederick followed two steps behind, yet he managed to do so without feeling suffocating for once. Robin glanced over his shoulder as he waved farewell to the princess, and she waved back happily. "Be safe!" she called. "Oh, and I like your new coat a lot!"

Instead of giving his thanks verbally, Robin simply smiled, continuing to head down the stairs. He could feel Frederick's gaze boring into the back of his neck, but the anticipation of what was to come next more or less overrode his frustrations with the knight's lack of trust.

The walk to the barracks was unsurprisingly silent, but the moment Robin saw Chrom's head of blue hair in the distance, he felt immense relief wash over him. He picked up his pace, reaching the prince before Frederick even made it through the doors.

"So, they want you to be my tactician then?" Chrom teased as his friend entered the room. "Not that I don't doubt your skills, but I have no idea who thought this would be a good plan."

Shaking his head, Robin agreed. "Neither do I. I mean, these people should know that you're too impulsive to listen to any sort of guidance, right?"

"Hey now, you should be careful with what you say to the Halidom's own prince. Believe it or not, I'm a heavily respected figure around here."

Robin rolled his eyes, but both he and the other teen knew their annoyance wasn't real. Both carried great respect for the other, and though he wouldn't admit it in front of his squadron, Chrom had a great deal of trust in Robin as well. Still, they shared a laugh, and a significantly older knight approached them both after they finished with their banter.

Taking notice of the soldier's presence, Chrom's tone turned more serious. "Robin, this is Laurena. Even though this mission's preferred outcome does not include bloodshed or violence, she will help get you equipped for whatever situation we encounter."

Robin nodded, pulling aside a portion of his coat to show the knight he was already equipped with his new tome. "If it's all right with you, I would like to keep this with me," he said. "I could use a sword though, should you have one to spare."

"Follow me," she instructed. "We have plenty to choose from based upon your skill level."

Gratefully, he followed Laurena around a corner to a small armory made of beginners' weapons, and after some consideration, Robin picked up a light sword made of bronze. "I've sparred with the prince every now and then," he admitted, "but most of my training has been with the other young mages here. Do you think this would work?"

"I do," the knight responded, holding out her hands. Robin handed her the blade, and she looked at it closely, feeling its weight in her hands. "It's balanced quite well, and has been recently sharpened. Be careful with it."

"I will," he promised. "Thank you."

"Of course. Now, I have something else for you." Robin had noticed a small pack attached at the hip to her belt, but was surprised to see her take it off and hand it to him. Inside were two vulnerary vials, along with one set of small rations. "Do you know how to use this medicine properly?" she asked. He shook his head. "The medicine is imbued with magic from our greatest healers. Drinking it will help stabilize any injuries temporarily, but after a fight, you need to be healed fully by an actual healer."

Studying the vials, Robin cocked his head to the side. The explanation made sense, but he hoped he wouldn't have to use one in the near future. He hadn't experienced a major injury in quite some time, and even though Frederick had just lectured Lissa about risk, it was only now starting to register in Robin's mind how dangerous this could be.

But it wouldn't be…

Would it?

Once again, he thanked the soldier for her help, and as he headed back to the barracks' common room, he strapped the pack to his own belt. He exhaled slowly, reminding himself that everything would work out just fine and that the probability of combat was quite low.

Chrom was in the midst of conversation with two other youths when Robin returned, but he stopped as the dark-haired boy approached, giving a look of concern. Was his worry really that obvious? Robin shook his head ever so slightly to ease the prince's mind, and their silent exchange ended there.

"Robin, I'd like you to meet two members of our party for this mission." Chrom motioned for him to join the group. There was a blond boy with a rather muscular build, as well as a slightly older girl with short auburn hair and glasses. Robin recognized the latter of the two as a mage named Miriel. He'd trained alongside her on occasion, but he had not been aware that she was an aspiring soldier of any kind. Her intellect and passion for the study of magic certainly seemed to outweigh her interest in combat practices, but Robin would not question her presence. Perhaps Chrom knew her better than he did, or maybe she was even assigned to him by someone with more authority.

Regardless, Robin dipped his head respectfully to the two standing in front of him. A silence hung over the area before the blond coughed ever so slightly. Crossing his arms, he studied Robin up and down. "So, what is it that you do?" he asked in a rather challenging tone. "Do ya fight with that sword?"

Glancing to the weapon he now carried, Robin shook his head. "No, actually I'm-"

"-an aspiring tactician being trained in the arts of magical combat," Miriel finished for him. The blond gave her a puzzled look. "We have crossed paths several times before. Eleven, to be exact. Robin is the son of one of Ylisse's chief tacticians, and he shows promise to follow in his father's footsteps. I do not believe I have ever observed him in a fight, but I can hypothesize that he is here as a test of his tactical prowess."

"Oh, is that all?" the blond muttered, arms still crossed. "Well, whatever. I'm Vaike, and if my job is to leave the boring stuff to you, then that's fine by me. Just make sure you watch my technique out there- you might learn a thing or two from your ol' Teach!"

Ah, so the boy's name was Vaike. Robin had heard of him a few times from Chrom, but in all honesty, his head was still reeling with how Miriel happened to deduce so much about him in such a short and impersonal span of time. Still, he had noticed that the weapon Vaike carried was an axe rather than a sword, so he was skeptical about how much this guy could actually teach him.

Robin brushed his hand against Chrom's ever so subtly, indicating he wanted to speak with the prince alone. Excusing himself for a few moments, Chrom stepped away, and Robin proceeded to follow. Frederick was keeping an eye on them from a rather generous distance, but that was the least of the mage's concerns for now.

"Chrom… Is this everyone that will be going out on this mission?"

Puzzled, the prince furrowed his brow. "Are you unhappy with how our party is made up?"

"No, not exactly, but I was going over the situation with my father earlier, and I expected… Well, I expected at least one more person who would be able to fight if necessary."

"You told Raven you wanted Frederick and three others, right? Look around, I count that number exactly. I see Vaike, Miriel, and you."

While he wasn't wrong, something in Robin's chest sunk a little, "Chrom…" he whispered, "I've never been in any combat outside of sparring before. A tactician stays to the sidelines and only jumps in if needed, but with the size we're at, what if I am needed? What if I do have to jump in?"

"Hey… It's okay, I promise. We'll be fine. Like I said, we're not even really supposed to get into a fight unless it's deemed absolutely necessary. Okay? Look at me, please." Chrom reassuringly placed a gloved hand on Robin's shoulder. He had a few inches on him height-wise, and the mage looked deep into his stormy blue eyes. "It will be okay. And Robin…" He sighed. "I trust you. Whether or not this anxiety is coming from a tactician's point of view or a soldier's, I know you'll carry us through. In time, I really feel like you'll be a great leader, and you don't become one by standing off to the side in battle. One day, I want you to be right there with me up front, commanding Ylisse's finest troops. This is just the first step."

There was no faltering in his voice, no lie in his eyes. Embarrassment flooded Robin's body, and he scoffed slightly to try and steer the conversation in a different direction. "Okaaaay Chrom, that's a lot of trust you're putting in me here. No pressure or anything, right?"

"That's not what I meant, I just…" As he trailed off, he removed his hand from Robin's shoulder, his gaze now down on the floor at his boots. "I'm nervous too, you know. Frederick's been trying to help, and I know I've lead missions before, but it scares me to think about all the possible outcomes of this. That's why I need you here." Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Chrom cleared his throat softly. "I know we've been apart for the last few years, but every time we've worked together, I've always felt confident, like we could do anything. Right now, as I'm getting older and all eyes are on me, I need that confidence again. I don't want to let the Halidom or Emm down, and I'm sure you feel the same way."

Robin felt himself chuckle. "Yeah, I get it. I don't want to let my father or anyone else who's put faith in me down. If I mess up and anyone gets hurt, they'll all look at me and think it's because of my lineage that I failed. I don't want that." He placed his hands in his pockets, recalling the same feeling Chrom had described to him. Their various duties had indeed kept them apart in recent times, but the pure excitement he'd felt once he known he'd get to work with Chrom again was something he didn't want to forget. There was so much to prove now, and the bond he shared with Chrom was something that he hoped would make him stronger and more decisive.

"Well," Chrom stated, "it seems we've both got a lot we want to live up to. So why don't you say we head back over to our companions and get ready to head out? Standing here worrying won't help us worry less."

"You're right," he said with a smile. "Oh and… Thank you, Chrom."

"Of course."

The prince gave him a pat on the back before they approached Vaike and Miriel again. The two were now arguing quietly over… something, and Robin couldn't help but take note of what an interesting dichotomy the two represented. Literally, they were brains and brawn.

"All right, everyone have everything they need?" Chrom asked them, effectively putting an end to their heated discussion.

"Yep, Teach is all set! Ready to pound some brigands!"

"Affirmative."

Vaike cracked his knuckles and Miriel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, both looking determined in their own ways.

"Excellent," Chrom said. "To go over the plan again, the four of us and Frederick will make up the main negotiations and enforcement party. Our objective is to peacefully take the brigands into custody for trespassing and stealing, but if they won't go easily, we may take them by force. A few knights and a healer will follow at a distance in case we need assistance, but this mission is up to us. Any problems or concerns we've got are things we'll have to address ourselves. Understood?"

Each nodded, which seemed to satisfy Chrom. Any nerves he'd expressed to Robin earlier seemed to disappear as he spoke, and a sense of admiration flooded the mage. Being born a prince came with certain responsibilities, but Chrom was just a natural leader. His confidence was clear.

Before Chrom could continue with any other information, Frederick approached the group, carrying an ornately sheathed sword in his arms. It had not been on his person prior, so Robin only assumed someone had given it to him in the past few minutes. At first, he barely took notice, but as the knight approached, Robin couldn't stop staring at the red and gold that hid the blade from his sight.

"Milord, Lady Emmeryn sends her well wishes and blessing," Frederick said, extending his arms to Chrom. The prince looked caught off guard at first, but controlled his expression shortly thereafter.

"Thank you, Frederick," he breathed, taking the sword into his own hands. The design on the hilt was uniquely shaped, almost like a teardrop, but Robin couldn't shake the feeling it reminded him of something somehow.

"Please milord, do be careful with it. The Exalt expressed her utmost disappointment if you were to do anything rash with it again."

Chrom's face tinged with red, and he attached the sheath to his belt carefully. "Th-thank you, Frederick," he reiterated, exhaling deeply. Both Vaike and Miriel stared in awe at the weapon their prince now carried, but Vaike especially seemed enthralled by it.

"Hey Chrom, after this is done, ya _have_ to use that blade and spar with me." Vaike was practically drooling over the sword, but there was an intensity in his eyes that Robin had not previously noticed.

"I'm afraid I must stop you there," Frederick interrupted. "After this mission, Lord Chrom is to return the Falchion to the Exalt. A sword as sacred as this one is not to be dulled by constant sparring."

"Aww, c'mon! It's gonna be his sword someday, so why not let him get in a little more practice with it, huh Frederick?" Vaike protested. Over the span of his complaining, Chrom had moved his hand protectively over the sword, and Frederick sighed irritably.

The bickering between the knight and fighter continued, but Robin's thoughts wandered. _The Falchion,_ he thought. Where had he heard that name before?

_So that's the famous blade, is it? Not as impressive up close, I must say._

Panic shot down his spine, as if an icy chill had run through his veins. His dull eyes darted around the room, but no one else seemed to have heard the voice that spoke.

_Don't act so surprised, boy. I will admit it has been awhile since we've last chatted, but you know who I am. No reason to quiver with fear. Well, actually, maybe there is, given that the Falchion itself is right there. But right now, that pathetic prince wouldn't have the heart to use it against you._

"_What is happening?"_ Robin hissed to the voice, his fists tightening as his heart pounded wildly. _"Who are you? What are you?"_

_Oh, so you've forgotten me already? Sad. It's taken me quite some time to reconnect with you, but I didn't think you'd forget me in eight short years! How very tragic indeed. Yes, how very tragic…_

Robin's heart continued to race, but nobody had taken notice of his sudden tenseness. Not only that, but it seemed like no one had even heard him speak.

_Don't be so alarmed, boy. I'm just here to wish you luck before you go. Everyone needs luck, don't they?_

He swallowed, skeptical of the voice and its intentions, but ultimately, he nodded ever so slightly.

_Good. Now, be at peace. Your mission is far more interesting than anyone could ever think. You'll need to stay calm. Oh, wait, I've already said too much! _The voice chuckled, and the sound made Robin grit his teeth. His head started to pound in time with his heart, and underneath the dark gloves he wore, he felt his hands growing oddly cold.

_I'll leave you with one last curious tidbit, child. Look at the prince's shoulder. I'm certain you'll figure out the reason why that sword looks so familiar to you if you do._

As much as he didn't want to listen, Robin shuffled to the right just a little until he could see the birthmark that adorned Chrom's right shoulder. He'd seen it dozens of times, and he'd known what it was, but the longer he stared at it, Robin realized something odd.

"_That shape… It's the same shape as the hilt of the Falchion's blade!"_

_Very good, boy. And do you remember what that mark is called?_

He did. Chrom had been the one to tell him about the mark in the first place, and it had been not long after they had first met. Recalling its name, a pit formed in Robin's stomach, yet he did not know why. It confused and terrified him, and he bit his lip to help keep down the rising bile in his throat.

_Yes, that is correct. You are looking at one of the few people possibly capable of wielding the divine sword Falchion, otherwise known as a bearer of the Brand of the Exalt.  
_

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5: The First Encounter

Chapter 5: The First Encounter

* * *

The departure into the wide fields of Ylisse was uneventful, and the voice that plagued Robin's thoughts failed to return, even if he tried to speak with it directly. He would not let those around him see how rattled he was, but his hands trembled inside his pockets. The voice… It was so familiar, yet for some reason, he could not recall why.

His past life in Plegia had to hold some of the answers, he thought. He remembered almost nothing of those seven years of his life, and it had been that way for quite some time. His father called it a suppression of memory, most likely brought on by trauma, but no one would tell him what that trauma was. Every now and again, Robin would get flashes- moments of what he could only assume was his past. Dark rooms, lightning flashing across the night sky, and recently, a woman with pure white hair. When he was younger, his father never had any answers, and so Robin had stopped telling him about the memories he came across, no matter how strange and terrifying they were.

But this voice… That was a problem. Something inside the mage told him to keep this to himself, for it was weird and concerning for anyone to hear voices like that. His father might find him crazy, and worrying the man was one of the last things he wanted to do.

"Hello? Earth to Robin?"

Flinching at the sound of Chrom's voice, Robin snapped himself out of his thoughts. The prince was looking to him expectantly, which wasn't all too surprising. They'd been walking for almost three hours, and conversation with anyone else in the party wasn't incredibly… stimulating.

"Sorry, my mind was elsewhere. What did you say?" Robin asked, hoping Chrom wasn't keen enough to pick up on his internal conflict.

Chrom nodded in understanding. "Yeah, the anticipation is killing me too. I just wanted to ask about that coat you've got. I don't think I've seen you wear that before."

He looked up and down his sleeves, holding an arm out to Chrom to examine the fabric if he wished. "My father gave it to me this morning," he admitted. "It's styled after his own… Well, not the one he wears now, but the one he wore when he first came to Ylisse." A smile appeared on his face. "He had it made for me, almost like a way to blend the culture of my heritage and the culture I live in now. The blues and silvers were even modeled after your colors, I think."

"So I noticed," Chrom said in awe as he studied the handiwork. Just as Robin had said, it was definitely Plegian in fashion, but any identifying stiches or emblems had been removed. It was quite fitting for a refugee. "Guess that means you better not find another nobleman to serve when you become a full-blown tactician, otherwise our whole matching situation will be gone for good."

"Oh, come on. If this is about me being your tactical partner in crime once you get some more experience under your belt, then forget it. Even if I don't serve you directly, we're still going to be connected to each other. Think of this coat as a symbol of that, okay?"

"Okay, okay, I get it. But still, if you leave me and go serve one of those stuffed up members of the council instead, I might just have to hunt you down and steal you away until you come to your senses."

Robin laughed softly. "Good luck with that, Chrom. Now that I know that's your plan, I'll be preparing. Think you can outwit me?"

"Unlikely." A sigh escaped the lord's lips, and he shook his head impatiently. "Still though, I've said it before and I'll say it again: you're one hell of a tactician. Anyone would be lucky to have you on their si-" Before Chrom could finish, Frederick held out a hand, stopping them all in their tracks. Puzzled, the prince shared a concerned look with Robin before stepping forward to his knight. The brigands weren't supposed to be camped this close according to their intel, but something definitely had the cavalier spooked.

Waiting anxiously, Robin placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. Miriel and Vaike had fallen silent just as quickly, and though he couldn't see their expressions behind him, he knew they were just as worried.

Minutes of silence and waiting passed, and Robin felt his hands start to shake more. _Relax_, he told himself. He would be no good to his team if he was rattled like this, so with a soft exhale, he glanced around the area. Currently, they were on the outskirts of one of the open fields, and there was a thin treeline providing some cover from any possible enemies. That was good.

Nothing looked out of the ordinary though, and for the life of him, Robin couldn't figure out why Frederick had stopped them all. He swallowed thickly, continuing to keep his guard up.

"What's goin' on?" Vaike hissed, to which Robin offered a shrug. Miriel smacked the blond's shoulder lightly, eliciting a soft "Hey!" from him.

Frederick and Chrom crept forward several steps, the former with his lance now drawn and at the ready. Turning back towards the rest of the group, Chrom motioned for everyone else to do the same. Warily, each of them followed his orders. With his hands trembling a little less than before, Robin held his sword out defensively.

Just as everyone had revealed their weapons, chaos descended. From behind a cluster of trees to the right, a man rushed at Chrom with an axe drawn and at the ready. In one swift motion, Frederick stepped in front of the prince and blocked the blow, his strength on par with the fully grown man who was now his opponent.

"What's the plan, tactician?!" Chrom called out as two more brigands rushed to their friend's aid. Robin spun around wildly, mind racing. Where were they even coming from?

From behind, Miriel let out a cry of pain as another new foe took a swing at her. It didn't look serious, but as he himself knew, mages weren't built to hold their own against many physical attacks. In retaliation, Vaike let out a fierce battle cry and swung powerfully at the target, actually landing a more severe blow.

Thinking at a speed he'd never had to work at before, Robin finished his assessment of the area. Wherever these enemies were coming from, they'd need to locate it at some point, but the priority right now was protecting everyone.

"Vaike!" Robin cried out. "Protect Miriel! Try and move together so she can get those guys around Frederick from a distance!" It looked like the concentration of the enemy was up front, and the only threats so far had emerged from hiding to their right. "Head left!"

The fighter and mage nodded, and Vaike kept himself between his enemy and Miriel. Without much hesitation, she increased the distance between them, and to Robin's surprise, she grabbed her tome and flung it open. A small but powerful ball of fire left her hands as she read the spell aloud, causing the brigand to reel backwards as it made contact. His hair and clothes caught fire, and in his few seconds of shock, Vaike attacked once again, though this time, he used the blunt end of his axe to strike the man's head. Miriel removed her magical flames and the man lay unconscious, undone by a combo that Robin had not expected. Had that even been planned?

Robin's focus shifted back to Chrom and Frederick. Not much had changed in those few seconds, but Chrom was facing off against an enemy of his own now while Frederick continued to hold off two. Neither would have too much trouble, but until he knew for sure there wouldn't be reinforcements from the same direction, he needed to go help.

"I'm coming, Frederick!"

Robin held his sword out threateningly and charged at one of the brigands, whose eyes left Frederick for a split second. Unfortunately for him, it was just long enough for the knight to gain the upper hand and deliver a devastating blow to his armored abdomen. A soft "oof!" of pain came from the man, but he was still standing. If Frederick wasn't able to take him out in one attack, then maybe the foes up front were stronger somehow.

"Robin!"

A cry of warning came from the female mage behind him, but it did not come soon enough. Sprinting towards Robin was another, tougher looking man, and he tackled Robin to the ground with ease. The impact knocked the boy breathless, his sword falling out of his grasp. "Let me go!" he hissed between gritted teeth, but the man only threw his head back and cackled. He roughly grabbed Robin by his shirt, hoisting him painfully to his feet. Dizzy and discombobulated, it took Robin a second to process the feeling of cold steel of the man's axe pressed against his neck.

"Listen up, you lot!" the man shouted. "Lay down your weapons or this one gets it!"

The threat rang across their entire battlefield, and everyone stopped in their tracks. All eyes rested on Chrom, who threw down Falchion. The brigand he'd been in combat with eyed the weapon with glee, making sure Chrom knew he was at a disadvantage now. Frederick's eyes were filled with fury at the action, but he said nothing and followed the lead of his lord, tossing his lance aside.

Though he couldn't see them, Robin heard the clatter of Vaike's axe on the ground, and he only assumed Miriel dropped her tome. _Damn it,_ he thought, cursing himself for getting them into this situation. He tried to struggle out of the man's hold, but each time he did, the man forced the blade harder against his throat.

"Well done. Seems even them fancy soldiers from the capitol know when to give up," the man- presumably the leader of the group- said. "Now, here's what's gonna happen: You're going to leave us all your weapons and all your gold, and we just might let you all leave here alive."

Robin winced at the demands. This was a small encounter, one that the five of them easily could have neutralized, and now they were going to lose like this? The thought sickened him.

"That's not going to happen, I can tell you that much," Chrom finally said. "We are knights of Ylisstol, and we do not bow to your demands."

"Boy, do you think I'm daft? That there sword you've got doesn't belong to any _knight_ I know of. That's the sword passed down through the exalted bloodline, and only a member of the royal family can wield it. There's only one Ylissean prince that I know of, and it just so happens that he'd be around your age. Bet taking that noble whelp into our custody would pay a handsome amount of coin through ransom."

Robin's stomach dropped, and Chrom's face paled almost instantly. Frederick at least managed to keep his face of stone, but his eyes still blazed with anger.

"Well, have anything to say? Any cutting remarks, prince? Pleas for mercy?"

Chrom's hands balled into fists, and it was clear his thoughts were racing. He took a step towards their leader, raising his head so their eyes could meet. "You have trespassed on our lands and wreaked havoc on the surrounding villages. If you expect me to believe you built up the resources and skill to go from petty thefts and mild arson to kidnapping royalty in the span of a day, then you're wrong. I'll say it again: we will not bow to your demands. I'm offering you a chance to surrender now and come back to Ylisstol with us quietly, or else we will drag you there to answer for your crimes by force."

Robin inhaled nervously as the grip around him tightened painfully. Chrom winced a little at the sight of his tactician in pain, but did not lose the power in his threat. "Well? What say you?"

The leader of the group smirked. "Boy, look at you now. There's four of ya, and you're all children. How exactly do you expect to drag us anywhere?" He chuckled, digging the steel of his blade into Robin's neck ever so slightly. "Now, me and my lads are gonna take your friend and your fancy sword for now, and ya better have a mountain of gold to exchange for them. If them fancy nobles don't want to gather up that amount of coin, I understand, but we'll kill the boy, no hesitation. Sound fair, princey boy?"

"You cravens," Vaike hissed. Chrom sent a glare his direction, soon shaking his head in protest.

"Take me for ransom instead," the prince demanded. "He isn't the prince here, not even a noble. I'm much more valuable to you than he is."

The bandits laughed loudly in unison, and the blade eased up from Robin's throat. He could see that Frederick was practically shaking now, ready to spring into action the moment an opportunity arose. "Interesting proposition you've got there," their leader remarked. "If I agree, then you're not to struggle or fight back, ya hear? We caught your ragtag group of friends once, and we can do it again."

Chrom swallowed, but he eventually nodded. "Let him go, and you've got a deal."

Robin couldn't take it anymore. He had held his tongue until now, but Chrom didn't seem to have any sort of plan to get out of this. He was agreeing to do something awful! "Chrom, don't do this! I'll be okay, I promise! Just think about this for a second, please!"

"I have thought it through, Robin," he said firmly, not breaking eye contact with the man in charge. "Release him," he repeated. "Release him now."

With a satisfied grin, the man lowered his axe and tossed Robin to the ground several feet away, where he landed with an "oof" and sat up slowly, head spinning. He was quickly surrounded by more of the brigands, and a bitter expression found its way to his face. "You're a damn fool, Chrom," he muttered, to which the prince said nothing.

"Well then," the man said, "I hope your boy here has a decent memory, because here are the terms for your release." With a rope he'd had attached to his belt, the man took Chrom's hands and tied them behind his back. The prince's face was practically expressionless save for his resolve, and Robin could only watch in terror. "There's an abandoned group of fortresses just north of here. Tomorrow, we best be seeing ya there, but this time, you'll be handing over all the gold you can carry. Show up with anyone else or without the money and noble boy here gets it. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. And if you try and follow us, same deal. Try and stop this, and ya get your prince back in pieces."

Despite being captured, Chrom kept his head high, looking on as the brigands picked up Falchion and carried it in one of their sheaths. With no more words needing to be exchanged between any of them, the leader escorted Chrom out of the woods, his men following not long after. Once they finally walked out of sight, a frustrated grunt came from Frederick, and his eyes rested on Robin.

"This is your fault," he said furiously. "Lord Chrom being taken for ransom? How are we supposed to trust anything those foul brigands said?! What if they cross us and take him to the Plegian king instead? What would you have us do then?!"

Robin winced at his words. He picked himself off the ground, inhaling sharply as his bruised ribs ached. "Frederick, I- I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know Chrom would offer himself up instead! That was the most boneheaded thing I've ever seen him do!"

"Well, at least we're in agreement about that…" the knight muttered. "We will discuss your fate later. For now, we need for focus on getting Lord Chrom back. If we turn back now, we can arrive in the capital city before nightfall and prepare the ransom demanded."

"I… I'm not sure that's a good idea," Robin responded softly. Miriel and Vaike made their way over to the other two, and both were minorly injured. Thankful nothing worse than a few scrapes and bruises had occurred, Robin gently placed a gloved hand on his throat where the blade had cut. "You said it yourself, Frederick. We don't know what will happen to Chrom if those guys choose to cross us. We can't trust them in the slightest."

"I assume you have a plan?" Miriel asked. She sounded confident, almost as though she'd expected Robin to have a course of action prepared. That alone gave him a swell of optimism, and he smiled at her softly.

"Yes, I do. This is still Chrom's mission, and I don't want to jeopardize it. If we move quickly, we might be able to lose the soldiers assigned to watch over us." Vaike opened his mouth to object, but Robin continued, anticipating his question. "I know we lost bad, but if those guys spot actual members of the army, there's a lot more ways they can act. They're less predictable. If _we_ somehow get spotted, it doesn't mean as much. We're way less of a threat in their eyes, which means they're far less likely to panic."

"Maybe- and hear me out- maybe we're seen as less of a threat because we actually are," Vaike commented. "We sucked back there. And let me guess, you want us to follow them and ambush them, right? In their own territory?"

"We weren't expecting an attack, first of all," Robin countered. "None of us were ready. Well, actually, some of us were ready, but that's besides the point. We weren't coordinated enough yet to fight off an ambush, so yes, we lost. And second, even though those fortresses are theirs at the moment, we still hold some advantage. If we ambush them, we might be able to succeed. We just need to scout out the area and plan our attack accordingly."

"That's incredibly reckless," Miriel warned. "We were outnumbered here, so the chances of them having even more reinforcements back at their encampment are quite high. With our current success rate, it's unlikely we would win against such a force."

"I know."

"And you realize that if they were to spot us coming, Chrom could suffer because of it?"

"Yes, I know. But we can't just leave him. You heard him stand up to that guy- he didn't want to bow to any sort of demands. If any one of us were in his place, you know he'd try and get us back as soon as possible," Robin argued.

Frederick sighed softly. "The young lord is… Not the most thoughtful when it comes to strategy. Of course he'd go after the hostage- he doesn't know any better."

Robin shook his head. "No, he doesn't. But I do. I've been training and studying my whole life, and even if the plan isn't the best, I know I can guide us through to a victory." He paused. "Please, let me do this. It's my fault we're in this mess. I want to make it up to you all… I want to make it up to Chrom. I was careless before, but I won't be now. I know we're small in number and limited in experience, but I have faith we can do this. The scales are tipped in favor of the enemy, but that doesn't mean the fight is lost."

Each of his companions exchanged looks and nervous glances. Robin felt his heart pound, trying frantically to recall every tactical lesson his father had ever given him. Their conversation from the morning came to him, and he remembered that he had been asked why he didn't send stronger warriors with Chrom. In hindsight, he knew that would have been a safer option, but given the information they'd had, there was nothing to fear. Now, it wouldn't be skill levels and numbers that defined the fate of the battle, but rather the expectations their enemies held.

Those men were older, more experienced in combat, but they didn't have near the same amount of potential as everyone sitting beside him. If led properly, that potential would carry them to victory.

They will underestimate us, Robin thought. They have good reason to, but I will make sure that is their downfall.

* * *

[ Thank you for reading! If you have feedback or comments, please leave a review! ]


	6. Chapter 6: The First Kill

Chapter 6: The First Kill

* * *

"No need to worry. We've lost them."

A sigh of relief left Robin's lips as Vaike and Frederick returned. The soldiers assigned to follow Chrom's party had finally been lost in the trees, leaving the rest of their squad free to rescue the prince. Dusk was already upon them, and as much as everyone wanted to rest, there was no time. As Robin stood, Miriel continued to pour over the map they'd pulled from Frederick's supplies. She'd waited with him during the time the others were gone, and between his tactical experience and her analysis, he felt confident they had a solid plan to work him.

"Shall I take that as a sign that we are ready to depart?" Frederick asked, holding his lance tightly. He'd been on edge ever since their encounter and Chrom's abduction, and despite his misgivings earlier, he was probably the most eager of them all to get the prince back. It was obvious in his tense shoulders and furrowed brow, both of which seemed to be more tense and furrowed than usual.

The young tactician nodded in response. "While you two were gone, Miriel and I were studying the maps of this area. I think we found the fortresses those bandits were talking about."

Almost as if on cue, Miriel pointed to a spot on the map marked with two small edifices in the middle of a forest. "If the map is current, then their cover is limited. Robin and I have come up with a strategy, and if it works, we will draw them out into the open and take their base for ourselves."

Vaike crossed his arms. "And how exactly are we gonna do that?"

"I'm terribly glad you asked, Vaike," Robin replied, a grin growing on his face. "This is going to take all of us and all of our talents. And you? You're going to be our distraction."

* * *

"This is a terrible plan."

"I am aware."

Frederick sighed, crouching even lower into the foliage. Close to one hundred yards away was a pair of the bandits patrolling, and from the brief reconnaissance the group had done, there was most likely another pair watching the second fortress. Whether or not the one Robin and the knight were currently staking out was where Chrom was being held was up to sheer chance, but the odds were half and half.

Robin kept waiting, knowing that Vaike and Miriel would come through soon. Now, he wished they'd come up with a way to communicate when exactly the distraction would happen. Alas, those details hadn't been ironed out, and Robin left his fate, as well as the fate of the prince, in the hands of those two.

Anticipation was thick in the air, but still, nothing continued to happen. Robin clenched his jaw to steel himself, causing Frederick to glance over. After a moment, the cavalier spoke. "You know, he'll never admit it to you, but this isn't the first mishap the young lord has had during his missions."

Robin turned in surprise, caught off guard by the statement as well as the fact that Frederick had actually spoken to him. By the sounds of his words… Wait, was he trying to reassure him? "I don't understand. How could you possibly call this a 'mishap?' This is a catastrophe!"

Frederick shrugged his broad shoulders. "The very first mission he and I were on together, he swung Falchion with such force that it embedded itself into a tree. The enemy managed to dodge and to make a long story short, the sword was stolen in the midst of the battle. It was missing for approximately two days before a small band of knights recovered it. Lord Chrom was devastated."

"Wait, are you being serious right now?"

"I am quite serious. I'm not telling you this to somehow undermine the gravity of what you've done, but rather to tell you that things are not perfect. If we fail to recover the prince, however…" Frederick trailed off, but Robin understood.

"Thank you, Frederick."

He only nodded in response. Perhaps Frederick really didn't despise him after all…

The two continued to wait anxiously, but Robin would be lying if he said he didn't feel more at ease now. Once this mission was over, maybe he'd have finally earned Frederick's trust. Well, that is, if the event earlier in the day didn't completely shatter it. Minutes passed, and the patrol finally came back into view.

"Come on, come on…" Robin hissed under his breath. If those bandits made another pass around the fortress, they'd have to wait for what felt like an eternity for another chance.

Finally, as if hearing his silent prayers, a loud whinny and shout came from the distance, followed by the stamping of hooves. Frederick's horse certainly was pulling his weight for now. Then, in a husky voice that he identified as Vaike's, the shouting got louder. For only being a young adult, he sure had the voice of a grown man, and for that, Robin was thankful. It wasn't long after that the smell of smoke faintly hit his nose, and he scanned the treeline for the source.

There! Fire!

Almost at the same time he spotted it, so did the bandits on patrol. The flames were small and contained to begin with, but with the strange shouts and hollers Vaike was giving out, something was definitely up in their minds. One of the bandits gestured in the direction of the flames, and the two sprinted off together. One from the far fortress soon joined them as they raced out to the scene, and Robin guessed the other had gone to warn someone.

Frederick, also noticing this, glanced to Robin for permission, which he gave without saying a word. As stealthily as he could, Frederick crept out of the bushes and headed for the far fortress, lance raised and at the ready. As he disappeared behind a corner, Robin held his breath. He took not his sword, but his tome in his hands, dashing out towards the closer fortress. Every step he took sounded so loud to his ears- the enemy had to be hearing him!

_Relax._

There it was again, that sickening voice. It had put him on edge all afternoon, and now, without warning or reason, it returned to his head. Ignoring it as best he could, Robin pressed himself tightly against the wall, staying hidden in the shadows.

_You're not relaxing._

Oh, he knew he wasn't relaxing. The voice sounded so irritated with him, and yet, so amused.

_There's no way you're this stressed when you go and practice your spells or tactics. This isn't any different! Just take the emotion out of this and think logically… Think tactically. You made a plan, and it's worked so far. Now stick to it, boy!_

As much as Robin wanted to argue, the reasoning in that statement was sound. He'd had no plan when they were ambushed, but now, things were different. Things were in his hands.

In the distance, he heard a yelp of pain, though it did not come from Miriel or Vaike. The fire had come from the mage's tome, meaning she could control it, so that meant that they had engaged with the enemy.

Knowing he had to move, Robin forced himself to take a step, followed by another. Soon, he was sprinting, his breath steady as he rounded the corner of the fortress and came upon the entrance. There was one bandit standing, but he was only half-awake.

Quickly, Robin scanned his lessons. There were fatal points on the body, as well as places where non-fatal blows could be dealt. Without stopping his stride, Robin flung open his tome and conjured a ball of thunder in his hand. The electricity crackled, and the bandit looked up, unaware of what was happening until Robin threw his hand forward and the blast slammed the man into the wall. He slumped forward, and with almost perfect timing, the tactician pulled out his sword in his free hand and slammed the handle into the back of the man's head. With a small groan, the man fell face-first, and Robin rushed inside.

A few small lanterns were lit throughout the interior, giving him a slight sense of where things were. There was no one else in the main room, so he pressed forward. These fortresses weren't all that large, so with a quick onceover, he made the decision to head upstairs. If Chrom wasn't there, he'd have the high ground coming back down.

Robing was careful not to make too much noise as he hurried up the stone steps, and as he ran, he felt an odd sensation in his mind. It was like that voice was speaking once again, but there weren't any words, just… feelings.

_"What is it now?" _Robin asked the voice, trying to recall how he had communicated with it before. He didn't feel his lips move, but he absolutely heard sound, so he prayed he had spoken to it successfully.

_That man! You could have killed him! Ugh, he was down and helpless and unaware, and all you did was smack him a little!_

_ "I'm not going to kill anyone if I don't have to," _Robin replied firmly. He reached the top of the stairs and whirled his head around, relieved he wasn't followed. With tome and sword at the ready, he ducked into a nearby crevice, spotting a closed door ahead.

The voice did not respond, and after a moment to breathe, Robin advanced. He must have been heard though, for the door burst open and two bandits faced him with their weapons drawn.

"I am not afraid," Robin whispered to himself. With one step forward, he began to channel the energy from the tome he carried, and upon realizing he did not have a free hand to concentrate the magic into, the tactician focused the magic into the bronze weapon he held. Unsure if it would work, he winced and closed his eyes, but sure enough, a blast of thunder magic gathered at the tip of the blade.

Utterly shocked at what they were seeing, the brigands charged. One swung his axe heavily at Robin, who sidestepped out of the way, just missing the attack. The other swiped at him, to which he countered with his electric blade. Mustering enough strength, Robin forced the second attacker's axe away and threw a jab with his weapon, letting control of the magic go. With the sword's momentum, the spell sent the man flying back a few feet, which was just enough to give the boy the time he needed to spin and counter the other opponent.

The second swing was much less easily dodged, and in an act of desperation, Robin dropped the tome and stopped the attack with both hands on his sword. It was an awkward stance, and the pressure finally started to make his stance wobble. With a hiss of worry, Robin drew his weapon out of their stalemate, suffering a gash on the left arm of his new cloak as well as the skin underneath. If he'd had the time to worry over the loss, he would have, but using the bandit's now open stance against him, Robin shoved him away as hard as he could with a kick. Luckily, the man stumbled, allowing for enough time to pick up his tome and cast another spell. The force of the magic slammed into the man, and Robin knew he was still conscious. It didn't seem like he'd move after that hit, so he let him be.

The second attacker returned, but Robin was ready. He charged another spell and concentrated it into his sword once again, causing the man to rush in with even more desperation. Before he could strike, Robin swiped at his chest, lightly cutting through his flesh. The thunder spell followed the arc of the blade in a beautiful combo, and that was another attacker down.

Inside the room they'd emerged from, there was no one else, and Robin bitterly realized that Chrom was most likely in the other fortress. After all, the remaining guard on patrol had returned to that fortress rather than this one, which was where their boss probably was. Quickly, he sheathed his sword and ran back past his fallen opponents. The blood was starting to pool at the site of his injury, but Robin could hardly feel a thing. The adrenaline racing through him was more than enough to override the pain, reducing it to a dull ache instead.

There wasn't much to search downstairs, and once he was satisfied, he left the fortress through the same entrance he'd come in.

_Three enemies… You took out three enemies when you couldn't even defeat one earlier. See what happens when you relax during combat?_

It was Robin's turn not to respond to the voice, and as he headed towards the second stronghold, he heard much more commotion. Tome raised and at the ready, he entered. The guard outside had been taken out by Frederick, and as Robin moved past, he noticed there was a rather deep stab wound in the man's abdomen. Frederick really was strong, he thought. He must have been holding back earlier, when nonviolence was the ideal plan.

On the ground floor inside, Frederick was fighting off two enemies at once, but he didn't seem to be struggling too much. Some of the armor on his shoulders had definitely been hit, but none of it appeared to hinder him. Without even turning to see Robin had entered, Frederick called out to him. "Second floor!"

Robin had to do a double-take, but once he realized what Frederick meant, he rushed upstairs. One of the cavalier's opponents tried to break free of their combat and focus on Robin, but he was shielded by Frederick, who flicked his head up at the second level, telling the tactician to hurry.

There was no one out on the second level, so without delay, Robin flung the door at the end of the hall open and found Chrom sitting against the wall, his hands still bound. "Robin?" he asked groggily. "It's about time…"

"Save it for later, please," the tactician muttered in response, working to untie the prince before reinforcements arrived from the forest. "I'm afraid we're not done yet. Vaike and Miriel caused a distraction, but they should have fled by now, which means the guys that went after them will be back soon."

Chrom nodded, forcing himself to be more alert. As the ropes finally loosened their hold on his wrists, he let out a sigh of relief. "Listen, if we're still going to fight our way out of this, I need your sword. Their leader- Garrick, I think they called him- has Falchion."

"Understood." As soon as Chrom was free, he handed the prince his measly bronze sword. He inspected the weapon with a smirk.

"Seriously? Robin, this is a beginner's blade. You've trained with at least some iron blades before, so why didn't you take one of those? Bronze won't cause as much damage."

"Can we not talk about this right now?"

Chrom shrugged, but dropped the topic and led them out the door, checking to make sure no one was waiting for them outside. In the main room below, Frederick had finished off one of his enemies, but the sounds of the reinforcements returning were getting closer. "Come on!"

Almost like instinct, Chrom jumped into battle beside his cavalier protector. They exchanged nonlethal blows in combos, overwhelming their foe until he dropped his weapon and raised his hands in surrender. It was almost too impressive to watch. Clearly, the two were an experienced pair. Frederick collected the man's weapon and told him to stand aside, which he did without question.

As Chrom prepared for another round of combat, Frederick held out his hand. "Milord, I can handle them. You must find the divine blade."

A sour look appeared on Chrom's face, and he beckoned Robin to his side. Before he could say anything, the brigand he had gotten to surrender chimed in. "Garrick is in that room," he said, pointing to a door at the back of the ground level with a shaky finger. "He'll be awaitin' for you though, so be careful…"

The prince dipped his head respectfully to the man. "What's your name?

"Me name's Jonah."

"Well then, thank you Jonah."

Chrom's polite attitude seemed so out of place in the heat of the moment, but Robin couldn't help but recall what his father had said earlier: Chrom was learning how to become less arrogant. Perhaps this was just one example of that.

The door Jonah had spoken of was closed and most likely locked, so Robin held his tome up to Chrom questioningly. The prince gave him a look that more or less said "why not?" and so he let loose another thunder spell at the wood, causing splinters to fly everywhere. Chrom lifted his cape to shield his eyes whilst Robin simply turned his back, but the door was definitely weakened. With one great charge from Chrom, it swung open, revealing absolutely nothing in the darkness.

A frown fell upon his face. "I thought he was supposed to be in here," Chrom muttered to himself. Only then did Robin lift his eyes to the rafters, where the white's of the man's eyes caught the faintest hint of light, giving his position away.

"Chrom! Above you!"

The warning came just in time, as Garrick pounced down and Chrom swiftly leapt out of the way. Unlike Robin, his sword did not shake in his hands as he held it, and he took a confident swing at the man. Garrick, much more skilled than most of his men, managed to block the blow, and Robin watched on, the hesitation returning. Chrom had this all under control, right?  
_Oh, he doesn't._

Almost the exact instant he heard the voice, Garrick managed to land a blow to the unarmored section of Chrom's arm, causing the prince to take a small step of retreat. Before their foe could strike again, Robin steeled himself and attacked, landing a hit that made Garrick's hair stand on end from the charge.

_Well, you certainly have his attention now._

During Garrick's recoil, Chrom attacked again, breaking skin and muscle on the other man. Like with Frederick, the blow was nonlethal, but if the fight continued at the same pace, the man was sure to lose.

Realizing the two-on-one disadvantage, Garrick snarled and gained some distance in the small room before chucking his axe at Chrom, who was absolutely surprised by the move. He yelped in surprise as he knocked the weapon to the ground with his reaction, but that was just what the brigand had intended. As an occupied Chrom watched the weapon, Garrick went for the weaker of the two teens, delivering a harsh blow with his fist to Robin's stomach. The tactician doubled over, and Garrick held him tightly by his ponytail.

"My, isn't this a familiar situation?" he remarked, following his punch with a knee. Robin lost his breath, sputtering as he felt himself shake in terror and pain.

"Let him go!"

"Nah, not this time. You should stop carrying extra weight in your party, dear prince. It only makes it easier for me to beat ya."

Chrom winced as Garrick struck Robin again, and the tactician's head spun. How could he have let this happen again? Especially when he had a weapon at the ready!

_"Help me!" _Robin cried out, but his plea was not directed to his friend who watched on in agony.

_Help you? How am I supposed to do that?_

_ "I don't know, but you have to help me! Please!"_

He could almost hear the voice's smile in its words. _Alrighty then, kiddo. I thought you'd never ask._

In what seemed like an instant, the pain spreading throughout the tactician's abdomen faded, and he felt a concentration of magic surge to his hands. It was quicker and stronger than any magic he'd summoned before, and with a swift, almost inhuman twist, he fired an attack at his captor. As soon as the spell made contact and Garrick's grip on his hair loosened, Robin threw his tome to the side and tackled the man to the ground, straddling him. The magic still ran through his body, and without any idea how it happened, a blade of thunder magic formed between his hands. Looking down at Garrick, none of his training crossed his mind, and Robin stabbed the bolt straight through the man's chest. It went through so cleanly, so effortlessly, that it almost surprised him.

"Robin!" Chrom cried out. He took a step forward to help, but Garrick's body had already begun to seize with death. The tactician atop him twisted his makeshift blade, confirming the kill to himself. A smirk rested on his face, and the magical weapon soon faded, the magic too strong for him to continue to hold. He stood, staring blankly at Garrick's body. "… Robin?"

The world around him seemed to spin, and Robin gripped the sides of his head tightly. "Ahhh…" He wobbled, stumbling backwards until he finally fell to his knees, unable to look away from the man's body. Tears poured down his face without any explanation, causing his vision to liquify and blur. His body was hot and shaking, all while his gloved hands felt like ice against his temples. He couldn't even form words, just sounds of despair as he looked on at the man. For such a weapon that he had conjured, there was a minimal loss of blood, but the instant Robin caught a glimpse of crimson coming from the mostly cauterized wound, he lost it. He screamed, his hands growing colder by the instant. He could feel everything, as though a million icy insects crawled beneath the flesh of his hands. His bones ached, his fingernails burned, and he swore he was losing his mind.

Chrom approached him cautiously, keeping his distance as Robin howled in despair. "Robin?" he asked again, but the sound of his name only made the tactician cry louder. Deciding it was best to give him space, Chrom left the room to speak with Frederick. Only one other corpse adorned the floor, as the other two had surrendered and were being tied up at that very moment.

"Milord, what happened?" Frederick asked softly as he finished the knot to bind his second captive.

"He killed him, Frederick. Robin killed their leader." He glanced back to the room, where the hint of light from the lanterns in the main chamber illuminated Robin's hunched figure. The sounds of wailing were soon replaced with sounds of retching, and Chrom could no longer look.

"What evoked that kind of response?"

"I… I don't know. This was his first time in combat, so maybe… Maybe he wasn't prepared to kill. I remember I was the same way when I first took someone's life."

Frederick's gaze filled with pity and concern. "Yes, but never to this extent…"

Chrom could only nod somberly. "I know…" Shifting his attention, he glanced at their two captives. "I suppose we'll take them back to Ylisstol to answer for their crimes then."

"Yes, I suppose so."

A silence fell between them, but soon, Chrom's gaze moved around the room as though he were searching for something. "Wait, Frederick, where's the other one? Jonah?"

"Jonah?" Frederick echoed, joining the prince in searching the room. "I… I am so sorry, milord. He must have run off when I was fighting the reinforcements."

Chrom sighed. "Well, he was only a lackey. I doubt he can do much damage on his own. Should we encounter him again, we should capture him immediately and deliver him to Ylisstol."

"Understood, milord. For now, I will take these two to the rest of our group. Grab the divine blade and Robin when you are ready. He can guide you back to our rendezvous point." With a nod of acknowledgement from the prince, Frederick ushered the two brigands out of the fortress, his lance now sheathed across his back. Once everyone had left, Chrom took a deep breath and approached the room where Robin continued to weep.

Before he could say anything, Robin looked up at him, shame in his eyes. Chrom didn't blame him. Killing was not something one easily acclimated to, and it wasn't very common to kill during your first life-and-death combat.

The prince approached Garrick's body, his gaze avoiding the killing wound. Instead, he knelt down beside the brigand, unhooking Falchion's sheath from the man's belt. Thankfully, nothing had been damaged, and it was indeed the divine blade that rested inside.

"Chrom…" came a soft croak from Robin.

"Yeah? I'm here, it's okay."

"I…" Robin moved his hands from his head to his thighs, where they gripped tightly at the fabric of his pants. "I killed that man… _I_ killed him." He was trembling. "How… Why…"

Chrom took Falchion in one hand and approached him gently. "You did what you had to do, Robin. That was self-defense. He would have killed you if you didn't kill him."

"But I…" Tears continued to stream down his face, and he could no longer look Chrom in the eyes. "_I_ did this… I never wanted to do this… I wasn't ready to do this…"

"I know, I know… But you did what you had to."

Robin swallowed thickly, his dark locks hanging in front of his eyes. "I didn't know what real fighting was like… I didn't know how it felt." He paused and sniffled. "If this is what battle is… I don't ever want to step foot on a battlefield again."

* * *

[ Thank you for reading! If you have feedback or comments, please leave a review! ]


	7. Chapter 7: Invisible Wounds

Chapter 7: Invisible Wounds

* * *

The weeks that followed were unbearable and numb. Robin moved through the palace without life in his soul, locking himself in his room when he did not have any pressing duties. Emmeryn had held a conference with everyone on the mission, but the young tactician had refused to attend. Chrom had knocked at his door before _and_ after, but Robin did not answer.

It was strange- he felt filthy all the time, like some criminal. Since that night in the fortress, he had cast aside his tactician's cloak, even after it had been returned when the blood had been washed out. Every set of eyes he came into contact with in the castle only stared blankly at him, and each mouth could not find the words to say anything to him. It was a suffocating feeling, to be surrounded by all these people saying nothing.

In these weeks, Robin attempted to address the problem alone. There was no way Raven, his father, could possibly understand what he was going through. After all, the tactician had killed many others, be it for Ylisse or back when they were refugees.

There had been a time when Robin and Raven shared everything, but this… This felt like too much. First there had been that voice; that horrible, spine-chilling voice in his head, and now there was this. How could he even begin to explain _this_?

It felt like a sin to even utter the action allowed. Heroes and soldiers killed, yes, but so did criminals and villains. He had killed someone. Did that make him a criminal? Did that make him a villain?

It had never crossed his mind to ask his father or Chrom what it was like, but something just felt sickeningly wrong. Robin had always assumed that killing would be harder than it was- that the human body would put up more resistance. It had just felt so natural, like he had done something that terrible before. But that… That was impossible, right? The first few years of his childhood had been blocked out in his mind, but there was no way a _child_ could commit such an awful crime.

No matter how much that possibility seemed implausible, it never left the back of his head. A nagging worm, the thought kept him up during the nights and unable to focus throughout the days. There was a brief period of time in his recovery where he went to see Emmeryn, but an emergency at the border caused her priorities to shift, and they were unable to meet. Even though he'd been dreading that encounter, part of the boy felt heavier somehow when it did not happen. He was by no means ready to spill his emotions to anyone, but something inside of his very core had accepted that Emmeryn would have to know sooner or later.

It was just that now, that would have to be later.

During that time, the royal children were there for him. Though he did not socialize or leave his room for quite some time, Chrom or Lissa would retrieve him meals throughout the day and leave them outside his door. Every now and then, there would be a handwritten note accompanying his food, and over time, Robin would start to play a game with himself where he would guess who had written it based on the handwriting. Most of the time, it was Lissa, but Chrom would always take care to sign it himself. Occasionally, Vaike and Miriel would write as well, which shocked the young tactician. He barely knew Vaike, and if he was being blunt, the other boy didn't seem… Very sentimental about much.

It was then that he was studying one of these notes after dinner when a soft knock came at his door. Visits had been less frequent, but Robin could recognize the knock from anywhere.

He hesitated, sitting at the edge of his bed like he had been frozen in place. Goosebumps littered his exposed arms, but it was not until the knock came again that he finally snapped out of his fear and stood. Each step towards the door was agony, and he kept repeating phrases of reassurance to himself until he placed a gloved hand on the key in his lock. Slowly, he turned and removed it, and breathed softly, "Please come in."

Almost immediately, his father opened the door and stepped inside, and Robin could tell that he hadn't been sleeping. Now that he thought about it, that's probably what the man thought when he looked at his son, for they both shared dark bags underneath their eyes.

Without saying a word, Raven closed the door behind him and sat at Robin's desk. The boy opened his mouth, but he reached out a hand to silence him. Robin lowered his gaze and returned to his bed, where his line of sight focused on the ground rather than his father.

"I'm not here to force you to talk about this," Raven began. "If that is what you need, then by all means, speak." A silence hung over the room as Robin slowly shook his head, but no sigh or sound of frustration escaped the older tactician. "Very well. Then I will get to the point. I'm sure you know that it has nearly been a month since you have isolated yourself in here, and despite everything that has happened, life has continued to go on for the rest of us. You are still a tactician, still my son, and the Halidom still needs you."

Robin flinched at the candor of his words, but the call to action made his gaze rise to meet his father's. "What are you asking of me?"

"Asking? Nothing, my boy. You are to pack your things immediately. Tomorrow at dawn, the two of us will be leaving on an assignment appointed by the Exalt herself. We are to go to the Plegian border and check on our pegasus knights and their efforts. It is a routine check and a small delivery, but the Exalt has asked me to take care of it." Raven folded his hands gently in his lap, and sadness crept into his voice when he spoke again. "It would mean the world to me if I could spend some time with my son again."

A grimace found its way onto the boy's face, his eyes squeezing shut as he sighed. "Father… Father I…"

"I know this is hard to be around anyone right now, especially me, but spending some time away from the castle will do you good."

He made a fair point there. Even though his room was his whole world as of late, it would be nice to slip away. He didn't want his actions to exist in the minds of his friends, yet when they saw him, how could they not see his actions? If he was gone, even for a little bit, maybe… Maybe they wouldn't think about the attack when they saw him.

"I promise you," Raven added, "that we can treat this as nothing but business if that is what you wish. I will not pry, I will not overstep. Ylisse is suffering without a second brilliant mind working in its ranks, and I know we'd all like to see him back as soon as possible." Raven's lips curved in a small smile and for once in what felt like forever, Robin smiled back.

"Thank you, Father… I appreciate that." He swallowed. "I guess you're right though- I have been gone awhile. I want to make this up to Chrom… To the Exalt. If I get back to my duties, maybe that will help."

Raven shook his head. "The only thing everyone wants to see from you is to see that you're doing better. Getting up and out is a good stepping stone down that path. So, are you with me?"

Better? How could he possibly be doing better? The word itself just felt infuriating to hear. Hiding his frustrations though, he nodded. "You said we leave at dawn? That doesn't give me much time to pack."

"No, no it doesn't," Raven chuckled as he stood. "The trip is three days at minimum. Don't worry about supplies- I will have that prepared. Anything you thing _you_ may need is your concern." Another nod of affirmation encouraged Raven, and he headed to the door. Before he left however, he stopped and turned to lay eyes on his son once more.

"Father? What is it?"

He said nothing at first, as if going back and forth as to what he wanted to say. "Robin, I…" He took a soft breath. "This is not something that will go away overnight. Everyone else wants it to, and by the gods I wish you could be rid of this pain that quickly, but that is just not how this works. The road to your acceptance, your recovery… It is long and hard, but you can only move forward now. Whatever pace you choose to do so is up to you. No one else here will ever understand your exact path, and you don't have to tailor your recovery to suit anyone else. Please, do not forget that. Healing from these invisible wounds you now have will hurt immensely, but I believe you can do it. I am here for you if you need anything."

And with that, he was gone. As quickly as he had entered, he exited, and Robin was left sitting in his sleeveless shirt to process what had just happened.

Warmth gathered behind his eyes and his nose, and his throat throbbed. Unsure if Raven was still outside, he forced himself to choke back the sobs that were coming. After all, he had to prepare- there was no time to cry.

Yet there he sat for the next few minutes, embracing himself tightly as he wept at the thought of even beginning to heal.

* * *

Dawn came, and unlike other nights, Robin had managed to sleep somewhat before he saw the sky start to lighten through his window. He recalled weeping as he packed his clothes, and ultimately, he remembered falling asleep out of pure exhaustion on top of them. Fortunately, once he was awake, it did not take long to finish packing, but he hesitated when he realized he had not packed a cloak to wear. He turned his gaze to his tactician's garb, which was balled up in a corner of his floor.

He knew he wasn't ready to wear it again.

Begrudgingly, Robin returned to his wardrobe, where he pulled out a set of standard mage's garb. He wore this when training with the other casters in the palace like Miriel, and though it wasn't his favorite, it would certainly do instead of the alternative. Quickly, he dressed himself, leaving his hair down and messy as he grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulders.

Something about leaving just felt… Good.

After locking his room and placing the key with his things, Robin made his way upstairs to his father's chambers. The door was slightly ajar, but he still knocked softly as he entered.

"Are you ready to go?" came his father's voice. Raven was strapping a tome to his belt, but Robin could clearly see he already had everything else packed and ready.

"I am."

"Very well then," he said as he grabbed his cloak and threw it around his shoulders. "Let's head to the stables and be off. Lady Emmeryn has prepared us a pair of horses and all the camping equipment we will need."

The stables were not too far of a walk, even with their things. Morning had not yet hit most of the workers in the castle, and everything was perfectly quiet as they moved through the halls. The cold air of sunrise hit Robin even from inside, and when they reached the stables, he understood why. A thin layer of frost covered the ground outside, even though the spring was just beginning to fade into summer. Something about the oddity made him feel calmer, but perhaps the chill was just keeping him awake as they prepped their horses and set off.

Even though the morning air had awoken his body, Robin still needed several minutes to adjust his mind. His horse trotted at a decent pace alongside his father's, but they did not speak for quite some time. It felt nice just to ride and be free like this, and something about the tranquil, silent morning made Robin feel peaceful for the first time in ages. His hair blew in the wind, which made his ears sting from the cold a little, but he didn't care.

They rode on for about an hour before they came to a small river in the woods and stopped to let the horses drink. Robin dismounted, stretching his arms with a yawn. He could even see his exhale in the air.

"So, Father," Robin began, "last night you told me this was a standard check-in and a delivery. What is it are we delivering to the pegasus knights?"

"Nothing of immense import," Raven replied. "Even though it is quite some time from now, Lady Emmeryn's birthday is approaching. Phila, the current captain of the pegasus knights, is one of her closest friends. Now that the date has been set for the gala in the Exalt's honor, I have been instructed to coordinate with Phila as to when she will depart from her post to attend."

Robin frowned. "That seems like such a simple task. Why appoint you to do it?"

"You know how our borders have become an area of concern recently, don't you? Gangrel and the Plegian army are breathing upon the very necks of the pegasus knights, and we need to have a solid plan in place for their captain's absence. At the gala, everyone will be more exposed should assassins infiltrate, and that is not a risk we want to take. The Exalt deserves some peace during such a joyous occasion."

"It doesn't seem like she has many moments to breathe and enjoy herself, does it?"

Raven shook his head. "She does not. Even if the war is over, Gangrel is looking for any excuse to start it again. The Exalt had to grow into her role as a leader very, very quickly. That makes her a popular target for any kind of attack, and I know that fear eats away at her when no one else is looking."

A sigh left the boy's lips. "I don't blame her."

* * *

Continuing throughout the day, Robin felt himself open up more to his father. They spoke about tactics, mostly, but as they left the hills of Ylisse's flatlands and headed into the mountains, things felt like they were reaching an emotional head for the boy. In just the past several hours, he had smiled and even laughed- two things which he had sorely missed doing. Their conversation was changing from professional to personal, and Robin didn't mind one bit.

"So tell me, have your magic lessons been going well? Have you found the mages here to be satisfactory trainers?" Raven asked. "Have you, um, made any friends with the other students?"

Robin shook his head. "There aren't many students my age there. There's only one or two, and we don't talk much. My instructor is good though. I obviously haven't gone all that recently, but when I did, I enjoyed dueling a lot. I actually learned some very useful footwork that had Chrom all shaken up the next time we sparred!"

"That boy may be strong and skilled, but it takes him awhile to learn, doesn't it? I bet he went back to train later that night just to deal with your new moves the next day" Raven chuckled.

"He can be predictable sometimes, can't he?"

The two shared a soft laugh. "The two of you… You're quite close, aren't you?"

Robin shrugged. "I guess so. He's the closest thing I have to a friend, even if we didn't spend the past several years together as much as we could have."

"The closest thing you have to a friend?" Raven echoed. A twinge of sadness struck his voice.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that!" Robin clarified quickly. "I have friends! I just… I never connected with the knights or the other mages, and so while I'm sure I'm friends with them, it's just not the same. Lissa's probably the exception to that though… She's immature and draining to be around, but she's a good friend. Kind of like a little sister."

"Ah, I… See."

"You sound disappointed, Father."

"No, not at all!" Raven shook his head. "I'm very happy you've found your place in the castle. You do know that I worry though, don't you? I wouldn't say I'm one to have many friends either, but connections bind and strengthen us in ways that we can't do by ourselves. It was always a worry of mine when you were younger that you wouldn't be accepted because of your appearance or your heritage, and that really hasn't changed."

Robin grew quiet. He'd always wondered if it was because of his Plegian ancestry that he'd still get weird looks every now and again from the knights, but it was never a looming insecurity of his. "Well, Frederick doesn't particularly like me, but then again, he doesn't really like anyone. I've heard he doesn't even trust the knights he grew up with…"

"Ah, well, just as Lady Emmeryn had to grow up fast, so did young Frederick the Wary. He's much closer in age to the Exalt, and was even witness to several attempts on her life from other Ylisseans. They were outraged with her father's actions and demanded justice, which to them was bloodshed of the entire royal family," the man explained. "The world is a cruel place, especially to children who find themselves in power." His voice faltered as he spoke, and he averted his gaze away from his son. Robin did not notice, as he was trying to process what he had just heard.

"I had no idea…" he murmured. "Were these attempts before or after we came to Ylisse?"

"Some before, some after," Raven replied. "By the time we arrived, most of the attacks had shifted outward. Those still furious at the previous Exalt left Ylisse to live in the frigid north or Plegia, which I believe helped fuel some of the fires left over from that war. Many call Gangrel the Mad King but… Ylisse's former Exalt was not much better."

Robin was quiet. Though he had lived through some of the war his father spoke of, he had no recollection of anything that happened. He only had heard tales of the violence, the bloodshed, and the pain it caused both sides, which was more than enough to scare any child away from knowing more than he needed to.

Noticing his son's silence, Raven apologized. "I'm sorry if that topic isn't one you'd rather talk about right now. We can discuss something else, if you'd like?"

"No, no, it's okay," Robin reassured. "War happens. Death happens. I never really thought about any of that before, you know? And now that I think about it, it wouldn't be a terrible idea for me to study it in the future… After all, Plegia is once again our enemy. In order to fight an enemy, you have to know your enemy." He beamed at his father. "You were the one that taught me that."

"Yes, yes I did." Pride filled the tactician's eyes as his son recited that piece of wisdom, but behind that was a great sadness. Robin already knew his enemy more than anyone else ever could, but he might never quite know the insight he had. "I'm pleased you've retained _something_ from our tactical training," he teased, trying to bury that thought once more.

Robin laughed. "What are you even talking about? I'm the best tactics student you've got- I know what I'm talking about!"  
"You're the _only_ tactics student I have. The bar is not set extremely high."

Robin gasped, mocking offense. "Father! How you hurt me so!"

Blissfully unaware, Raven thought. He shrugged and shook his head. "Well, night is approaching. Shall we make camp to rest? Perhaps your wound can heal during that time."

"Very funny," Robin muttered back, but he ultimately agreed. The sun was getting lower and lower in the sky, and if they were to start a fire for dinner, it would be better to do so before the light could potentially give away their position.

Though there weren't many flat areas on their trek through the mountains, the path they took was used commonly by Ylissean soldiers, and thus campsites had been dug out for any traveler who needed them. Upon finding one, Raven and Robin tied the horses and set up their tents and bedrolls with ease. The fire was not difficult to make with the use of a simple spell, and soon, Robin could look up from the flickering flames to see faint stars in the sky.

"I had no idea it was so peaceful out here," he remarked. Raven looked up from the dinner he was preparing over the fire, studying his son. Compared to the closed posture, slumped shoulders, and lowered eyes of the boy he'd talked with the night before, Robin looked like an entirely different person. He had hoped this excursion would lift his spirits, but he did not expect it to happen this quickly.

"Lots of Ylisseans think that the mountains and the Plegian desert are dry and uncomfortable, but they're really not," Raven responded. "Here, as we approach the border between our land and theirs, we're closer to the sky and the stars than ever. They are unobstructed from our view, so much so that when the night is at its peak, you can sometimes see the galaxy itself. That was… That was one of my favorite things about living in Plegia," he admitted softly.

Robin stared at him in awe. The galaxy itself? Was his father exaggerating? "What else did you enjoy about Plegia?"

The boy's question caught him off guard. "I didn't expect you to ask anything like that, well, ever, actually."

"I know I spent a lot of time in Plegia, but I don't remember a single thing about it," Robin confessed. "I guess… Part of me wants to know something good about where I come from."

"Something good? That's awfully vague… I'll certainly do my best." Raven rotated the meat cooking, thinking to himself about what he could even say. "Well, for one thing, part of Plegia borders the sea. When I was young, my mother and father would take me to stand and watch the sun rise and set as we stood on the shore. After that, I would practice my magic, and it was refreshing because there was so much room to move and try new things. In fact, the very beach I speak of is where I met your mother." A wistful sigh left his lips. "You've never seen the ocean, have you? I'll have to show you some day."

"My… My mother?" Robin echoed.

"Yes, your mother. She was a beautiful woman and a powerful mage, one that just garnered respect everywhere she walked. You have her eyes, you know."

Robin raised a gloved hand to his face, letting a finger gently graze one of his eyelids. "I… I never knew that. You never told me I looked anything like her."

"Well, you really don't," Raven mused. "You have my looks and my mind, but you have her eyes. Her mischievousness as well, as a matter of fact. That may be something you've grown out of for the most part, but the fact remains that it was a quality I very much saw in her. In fact, it was a quality of hers I very much loved.

Robin smiled, gaze returning to the fire. It crackled as the logs fueling it shifted, and a dozen red embers launched themselves into the air. "What…" he started softly. "What happened between the two of you?"

He was quiet for some time, but Robin did not apologize for asking. He recalled asking once before, when he was around nine or ten years old. His father had also gone quiet then, but he had halted the conversation by saying he'd tell the boy when he was older.

He was certainly older now.

After thinking and gathering his thoughts, his father finally answered. "She simply turned out to not be the woman I had fallen in love with."

"What does that mean?"

"It means what I said. I know I said I'd tell you when you were older, but I'm still not ready. Frankly, I don't believe you'd be ready either." Robin frowned, but Raven stopped him before he could say anything else. "She hurt you, Robin. Some things are better off forgotten, and the things she did to you are some of them."

It was all so vague, and it frustrated Robin immensely. He understood his father's logic, especially now, when he was recovering from crisis, but that didn't mean he agreed. "Why did she do it?"

Raven closed his eyes, a pained look on his face. "I wish I knew… I so wish I knew. Not all actions are rational, and hers were definitely not. When I found out, I did everything I could to get you out of there. When we ran, we fought, and I used powerful magic to protect you. It weakened the walls of the building she found us in, and just as the two of us made it out, everything collapsed. She was still inside. There was no way she could have survived."

Until that moment, he had not known his mother was dead. Robin took a deep breath, trying to process what he heard. He had never assumed she had passed, and yet, he never thought of her as still being alive.

He exhaled. "So, you… Did what you had to do. You killed her before she could have killed you."

"Yes," Raven said softly. "Before she killed either of us."

Robin looked from the fire to his own hands, which were resting gently in his lap. "You did… What you had to do."

"Yes, I di-" He paused, knowing that Robin wasn't asking about his mother any more. Raven saw him, his gaze so present and yet so distant. "Delivering death from my own hands was one of the hardest things I had learn to do. I have become numb to it. She was not my first, but she was the one that hurt me the most," he confessed. "I still think about it sometimes. Those few seconds from all those years ago replay in my head and I can't help but seize up. I remember so many details perfectly- like how you were crying, but only out of your right eye."

Without missing a beat, Robin asked "What else do you remember?"

"I remember… I had lost my shoes. There was a sharp rock lodged between my toes. And… the bell tower had just rung. It was early in the morning- it had chimed three times."

The boy shook his head in disbelief. "What strange things to remember…"

"You're telling me," his father agreed. "But… Trauma does strange things to us. It almost isn't fair what happens- and it's different for everyone."

"Last night," Robin said, "you told me that I have invisible wounds. You said that it would hurt for them to heal. How is it that you can talk so easily about something you did that wounded you?" Tears were starting to form in the boy's eyes, and once again, he tried to hold them back.

Seeing this, Raven adjusted the skewered meat, making sure it wouldn't fall over. He then stood and walked over to his son. He sat beside him, placing a hand gently on the boy's shoulder. "I have had something you have not: time. Wounds like these may never heal completely, but they do get better with time. Whether its anxiety, sadness, fear, regret, or something else entirely, each wound will have its own special way to heal. Right now, you're starting down the path towards that healing, and I could not be more proud or happy for you. Whatever it is you need right now or in the future, I am here with you. You do not have to heal alone."

Without warning, Robin threw himself into his father's arms, muting his sobs with Raven's body. Surprised, Raven felt his own eyes start to water, and he embraced the boy as tightly as he could without harming him.

"What's the point of healing if I'm only going to keep hurting?" Robin cried out in between sobs.

"Ah, what an excellent question that is," Raven said, laughing as he shook his head. His own tears soon ran down his face, but he continued to hold Robin without fail. "I think… No, I _know_ that if you work to heal from this, that someday, when you realize that you still hurt, you'll find yourself a stronger man. And even though it still hurts, it hurts less, and you're actually… Happy again."

Robin sniffled. "Gods, what I wouldn't give to be happy again…"

"I know… There's nothing I wouldn't do to see you happy once more. You deserve to be happy, and you deserve to be free of this pain. I wish that for you more than anything else in the world, my precious boy."

* * *

[ Thank you for reading! If you have feedback or comments, please leave a review! ]


	8. Chapter 8: The Pegasus Knights

Chapter 8: The Pegasus Knights

* * *

The next morning was rather uneventful given the high emotions that ran the night before. Unlike his previous nights of respite, Robin had fallen asleep because he was physically tired, not mentally tired. Something about that rejuvenated him immensely, and he awoke to a gorgeous golden sunrise in the mountains.

It just felt… Good.

"Good morning," Raven said as the boy stepped outside. "Not to be blunt, but you look a bit better. Did you sleep well?"

"You have no idea." Robin stretched his arms and began packing his supplies, finishing with his tent after everything else was taken care of. They would not waste travel time preparing breakfast today, and so in the middle of everything, Robin slipped a small pouch of salted jerky into the pocket of his mage's cloak. If all went well, they would reach the pegasus knights by midday, allowing them to spend the rest of their day and evening there.

The only pegasus knight he'd met was Phila, and it had been several years since he'd last seen her. She and his father worked closely though, even more so when she was promoted to the head of their force in the last two years. One thing Robin would remember fondly was how she treated him with care and respect before many other soldiers did, and she would even send him letters for his birthday every now and again. A devoted and strong warrior, Robin knew her mainly for her kind and gentle heart.

In the light of the rising sun, the duo set out on horseback for their destination. Along the way, Robin would ask questions regarding the pegasus knights to his father, which the man had no trouble answering.

"Why are all of the pegasus knights female? I heard one of the younger soldiers in the palace say it was because the pegasi only respond to the ways of women."

Raven scoffed. "Don't be daft, boy. While it's true that women are better at taming pegasi, the truth is that it is rooted in culture and tradition more than anything. Before Ylisse was Ylisse, I'm told that there were elite warriors that rode upon the backs of pegasi and delivered swift justice to their foes. They were all in sync, each warrior working with the other as though they were sisters. Those heroes helped shape the destiny of their land then, and the current pegasus knights aim to do the same now, all while honoring the past."

"Huh… I knew it was a privilege to be a pegasus knight, but I had no idea they were so highly valued," Robin admitted.

"Yes indeed," Raven said with a nod. "They are the epitome of strength and elegance, which is a hard and unique balance for any woman to maintain. I implore you to treat them with the respect they deserve while we are there."

"Of course, Father. I thought that was a given."

"Good. If you didn't, I'm sure almost any one of their trainees could school you in combat otherwise."

From there, Robin continued to ask about the history of the pegasus knights as well as the requirements to join their ranks. He gained an impressive amount of knowledge in such a short time, and it made him briefly wonder how long it had taken his own father to become such in expert in anything and everything to do with Ylissean history and tradition. The thought was fleeting as he soon saw a great structure in the distance, like an outpost of sorts. It resembled a barn, except it was made of stone. The sound of flapping wings in the distance was more than enough to alert the boy they were close to the headquarters of the pegasus knights, and his father had them pick up the pace a little.

They were greeted quickly by a pair of pegasus knights whom he guessed were still in training due only to their age, for neither looked over twenty. Both their mounts were groomed to perfection.

"I am Raven, advisor and tactician to the Exalt. This is my son, Robin. We have scheduled an audience with your commander," his father said before either girl could ask anything.

Clearly, they must have been expecting the two of them, for they both nodded. One looked over her shoulder, appearing satisfied when she saw a red-haired girl walk by. She was carrying almost two armfuls of firewood by herself, yet she seemed to have no trouble. "Cordelia!" the knight called out. "Come here and escort these two to Philia!" Turning back to the two tacticians, she gestured for them to dismount their horses. "We'll take care of your things and your steeds, so don't worry about that."

"Thank you very much," Raven said with a dip of his head.

As the two pegasus knights steered the horses towards the stables, the redhead raced over, hardly out of breath. "Apologies for the wait, sir. Er, sirs."

The tactician shook his head. "Do not worry. Those other riders said your name was Cordelia?"

She nodded in confirmation. "Yes… If you'll follow me, I'll show you to Philia. She should have a moment to speak with you now."

"Thank you," Robin said, following his father's lead. Cordelia had to have been a few years older than him- maybe even older than Chrom by a year or two- but she still seemed to be treated like a rookie by those two others.

When she didn't say anything in response, Robin shrugged off the thought and took in the sights around him. Everywhere he looked, there was another woman, either carrying a staff or a spear of some kind. They all wore matching armor, and now he was starting to understand what his father had meant when he said the squad was trying to emulate a sisterhood of some kind.

Moving inside the building, Robin realized that almost half of it was probably devoted to their stables, while the other half was most likely sleeping quarters. Just as bustling as the space outside, pegasus knights swiftly dodged each other in the halls, each heading their own separate ways. Sometimes, pairs or trios would head out together, and Cordelia would explain that the recruits would head out to participate in group watches with one senior member.

Eventually, they made their way back into the dorms, where Cordelia stopped outside a door and knocked politely. "Commander, you have visitors." When Phila opened the door, the knight stepped aside. "This is Raven, Lady Emmeryn's chief tactician, and his son."

A warm smile graced the commander's face. "We have met before." With a chuckle, Raven approached her, his arms open as the two embraced. "It has been far too long since I last saw you, my friend."

"It has been indeed," Raven agreed as he let the young woman go. "I was unable to send my congratulations when you became the captain of the pegasus knights. It is quite an honor for someone so young."

"Thank you, Raven. I heard that you recommended me for the position, so perhaps I might pass on another extra bout of thanks. It has been an honor to serve over the entire squad." Philia moved her gaze from the tactician to Robin, yet her smile did not falter. "And you! It's been years since I've seen you!" Robin dipped his head respectfully to her, and she did the same to him. "Did you know that the last time I saw you, you were only this tall?" Phila gestured to her waistline.

"Well, I guess things change quite a bit when years go by," Robin said with a soft laugh.

"As nice as it is to have a reunion with you, we have some important business to discuss," Raven stated firmly. "Robin, why don't you look around for a bit? I'll meet you in the mess hall around sundown."

Not seeing any other choice, he nodded. Raven stepped inside to Philia's chambers, leaving Robin alone outside with Cordelia.

"So…" he said, trying to break whatever uncertain energy was shared between them. "I know it's not in your job description to give tours, so is there anything I can help you with? I'd love to see what it's like to be a pegasus knight behind the scenes," Robin admitted.

Cordelia sighed. "I'm certain the others have stuck me with quite a few other meaningless tasks." She must have been referring to when she was lugging around firewood, Robin thought. "If you're serious about your offer, then you can assist with some of that. I doubt very many other girls would appreciate a boy helping them out."

Robing shrugged his shoulders. "If I'm overstepping, I apologize. I just haven't ever been out here before, and I think it's important to know what exactly goes on inside each of Ylisse's military units. Er, plus my father told me to look around, so…"

"Who are you exactly?" Cordelia asked, folding her arms.

"Oh!" Despite her closed posture, Robin still extended a gloved hand to the pegasus knight. "I'm Raven's son, as well as his apprentice. I serve as a tactician in-training for Prince Chrom."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow, minimally opening her stance so she could briefly shake his hand. "Well, if that's the case, then we might be working together in the future. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"No, the pleasure and honor are both all mine." He offered her a smile, which she returned with one more dazzling than he expected.

"So, Robin, were you genuine in your offer to help?"

He shrugged once more. "If I won't get in your way, then of course."

And with that, they were off. Despite being unfamiliar with the encampment, Robin didn't find it hard to navigate so long as Cordelia was nearby. She showed him to their stables, and even let him pet her pegasus once or twice. He was surprised at just how frightening the beast was compared to any normal horse; the wings alone were strong and massive, but its presence was awesome. Something truly majestic ran through the creature's blood.

Other than the stables, Cordelia also showed him their training grounds outside. Together, they collected broken weapons and generally tidied up the space, but it was not long before another young knight entered the space. To Robin's concern though, she did not enter with her pegasus. Instead, she immediately drew her lance on a training dummy, striking with more aggression and rage than Robin had ever seen in combat before.

"Cordelia, who is that?" he asked softly, watching the girl from afar. Her short, red hair made him wonder if the two were related, but the thought soon left his mind.

"Sully," Cordelia answered back. "She was admitted as a recruit only recently, but she's leaving the squad soon. She hasn't managed to fulfill the expectations that any of the senior officers hold."

"Sully…?" Robin echoed. He cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out why her name was so familiar. "Was she, by any chance, a knight back in Ylisstol before she joined the pegasus knights?"

"Yes, actually. How did you know?'

"Well, I didn't know for sure," he admitted. "She just looked familiar. And her name sounds familiar too. I've only ever been in Ylisstol, so if I did run into her, I suppose it would have been there." The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd heard Chrom say her name before. Multiple times, in fact. "She was- or maybe still is- a close friend of Chrom's."

As the spoke, Sully furiously slashed across the dummy's torso before spitting on the ground. "Are you just going to stand there and gossip, or do you want a piece too?" she challenged, turning to face the two of them.

"Sully, we weren't gossiping," Cordelia reassured. She was clearly older than the other knight, and crossed her arms. Her tone reminded Robin of an older sister. "This is Robin. He's visiting with Raven, one of the Exalt's tacticians."

She thrust her lance into the ground. "So, you're Robin? You're just as scrawny as I thought you'd be."

"You've heard of me?" Wait… did she call him scrawny?

"Damn right I have. You said it yourself, I'm pals with Chrom. The guy never shut up about you the last time we sparred." Sully stepped over to them, placing her hands on her hips. "Guess I'll have to get used to it again. Just like Miss Perfect over here said, I'm getting kicked out of the pegasus knights. Supposed to pack my bags tonight, actually."

"Sully, you're not getting _kicked_ out," Cordelia said sternly.

"Oh yeah, sorry. I'm _retiring_. Apparently, I don't have the right stuff to be some high and mighty pegasus knight."

Robin frowned. "So, does that mean you're going back to Ylisstol?"

"It does indeed, astute tactician. I'm still in service to the Exalt, so maybe she'll let me resume being just a normal knight. I'm sure that Stahl and Frederick would miss me otherwise."

"Frederick I know, but who is Stahl?"

"Eh, you've probably seen him around if you've spent any time with the knights," she said with a shrug. "Fellow cavalier of mine. He's got this weird green-colored hair?"

Searching his mind, Robin couldn't recall the boy she was describing. As he shook his head, Cordelia interrupted. "Well, I'm glad the two have had the chance to meet, but I still have things to do. Robin, shall we move on?"

"Oh," he said. "I guess so." Extending his hand to Sully, he smiled. "It was nice to finally meet you. If you do return to the knights, we might be working together at some point."

Sully shook the hand he offered. Her grip was firmer than he expected. "Heh, maybe we will work together then. Say hey to the prince for me, would you?"

Robin nodded. "Of course. Er, have fun with that training dummy. Don't beat it up too bad."

She shrugged. "He's got no way to fight back. I'm not gonna go easy on him just because of that."

He couldn't help but laugh. Breaking from their conversation, he left with Cordelia, and for the rest of the evening, he assisted her with what chores he could. He had this feeling that some of the other pegasus knights stuck her with all of these tasks, but she seemed eager and willing to do them, especially with the company of another. As they kept busy, Robin didn't notice how quickly sunset came, and he was reunited with his father for dinner soon after.

They sat across from each other at one of the long tables in the mess hall, and Philia actually joined the two of them. She told Robin great stories of skirmishes they'd had with the Plegians, and he in turn told her about his mission with Chrom. He spared her some of the more… Difficult details, but it was clear she picked up on his troubled feelings around the situation. She expressed deep pride, and as their meal ended, she even offered him a supportive hug.

He didn't know what having a sister was like, but he felt Philia would make a great one. She had to leave them shortly after, but was kind enough to show them to their quarters for the night. All their stuff had already been unloaded for them, and it was easy to settle in for the night.

"So, how was your time with Cordelia today?" his father asked as he prepped for bed.

"It was good," Robin answered honestly. "I liked helping her out. It was nice to be useful again." Removing the outer layer of his mage's garb, he turned to his father. "Did your meeting with Philia go well?"

With a sigh, Raven shook his head. "It seems like bandits and brigands alike are finding new ways to cross the border. The pegasus knights are starting to be spread thin… It's concerning. Philia is hesitant to abandon her post when the Exalt's ball is held in a few months. Not only would her absence leave the border more exposed, but I'm certain she'd be a valuable target on her travel to and from Ylisstol."

"That… Makes sense, I suppose. If I were trying to invade and cause panic, I'd want to cripple a pillar of defense like her."

"Indeed. There have already been a few targeted attacks on patrols that she leads," Raven explained. "But, if all goes well, this newest wave of recruits will fall into line quickly. She hopes their borders will become more secure with their increased numbers and stricter expectations."

"Well, that's some good news at least," Robin thought aloud. "Oh, but that reminds me, I actually met a pegasus knight that was getting cut from the squad. Her name's Sully, and she's actually a friend of Chrom's. I'm pretty sure we've met before, but I don't remember where or when,"

"Ah yes, the young cavalier with a brash attitude." He chuckled. "I don't think the pegasus knights were quite expecting a personality like hers when they increased their draft."

"She says she's leaving to return to Ylisstol soon. I was thinking that maybe… She could travel with us? After all, we're spending all day tomorrow on the road, and it would be safer for everyone if we travelled in a larger group."

Raven seemed surprised by this. "Did you take a liking to her or something?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Robin said. He knew his father meant something else by his slightly teasing tone, but Robin ignored it. "She had a very particular fighting style when I watched her. I've never trained with a lance, and though I'm not looking to learn, I'm sure becoming acquainted with her would be beneficial. I've got this feeling that if Chrom were to get his own squadron, he'd want her on it. I want to get to know her so that if that is the case, I know about her fighting style and her personality a little bit better."

"Well, that _does_ sound beneficial when you put it that way."

"It does, doesn't it? Not only that, but I've Chrom speak highly of her. Call me curious, I suppose."

Raven sat at the edge of his bed. "Well, if she has no objections, I'd be more than happy to invite her to join us. Maybe you can find a good physical sparring partner in her once we get back."

"Yeah, that would be nice. Chrom's good, but I'm nowhere near his level of swordsmanship. He really developed his skill in the past few years." Robin pulled off his boots and ran his hands through his long hair, airing it out as best he could before he slept. The amount of sweat he accrued in the heat throughout the day astounded even him.

"Well, I'm glad you had a good day. We have to set out early tomorrow, so why don't we both get sleep?" Raven suggested.

Robin nodded and slid underneath the sheet covering his bed. He let his eyes fall shut not long after his father blew out the lantern lighting their room, and he felt his body take to the call of rest almost instantly. After traveling and spending his day working, he was both physically and mentally ready to sleep again.

But as his mind drifted, a strange sensation washed over him. It was as though he could see shapes moving through his closed eyelids, but it made no sense, as the room was pitch black. Squeezing his eyes shut to try and get the feeling to disappear, his head started to ache, and he felt a bead of sweat roll down his face.

What was happening?

Startled, he opened his eyes, but he was not in the dark room he had fallen asleep in. He looked around wildly, unable to tell what was going on. He himself felt like he was burning up, but the floor and even the air itself felt like ice upon his skin. Blinking, he shook his head rapidly. This had to be a dream!

"No… Not there… Not possible…"

He heard a woman's voice in the distance. Faint and moving in and out of his ears, she sounded frustrated to no end. Carefully, Robin moved forward through the unfamiliar halls he now found himself in. They were dimly lit, with rough stone lining the walls and deep purple carpets along the floor. No one else seemed to be around, but he moved slowly, trying not to make noise of any kind.

_So, it seems you've found yourself somewhere else entirely… How quaint. You seem scared._

Robin jolted as he heard it- that chilling, disembodied voice that had spoken to him a month ago. "You… Who are you? Where am I? What's going on?" The voice laughed deviously in return, causing a deep chill to run down Robin's spine. "Show yourself to me! Now!"

_If you so insist… I'll take a form that you can perceive._

Robin waited, and in an instant, a shadowed silhouette of a human appeared before him. It shifted and warped with the light at first, but soon settled. Robin blinked, and the moment his eyes opened again, he saw that the shadow had turned into… Him!

_Does this appearance please you?_

Robin faltered, unsure of what to say. The duplicate of himself looked exactly the same, except for the fact that his hair was stark white. And his eyes… What color were they? They seemed to be shimmering; one moment they were gold, the next they were hazel, and in another instant, they were crimson.

_I've been waiting to talk with you. Ever since you killed that man one month ago, you shut me out. It was quite the trial you underwent then, and yet, here you are! You emerged unscathed!_

"Unscathed?!" Robin glared at his doppelganger. "I came out of it okay physically, but no way did I come out unscathed! What… What did you even do that night?"

_I lent you some of my power,_ the voice said. _That was just a small taste, but any more and I worried it would be too much for your feeble body to handle. The power was all mine, but make no mistake- the kill was all you._

Robin's breathing quickened. He clutched his head as he stumbled backward, unable to look at the shadowed version of himself. "Who… What are you?"

_Think of me as… _The voice paused. _Think of me as a guide, a friend- a reflection of yourself. You were born with great potential, child, and now that you've finally recovered from your first combat, we can finally work to draw that potential out. It's time for your inner strength to awaken… You are finally ready._

* * *

She sat huddled over her desk, notes and maps sprawled out in front of her. A large red X covered the continent of Valm to the east, with a frustrated note handwritten on a piece of parchment she had attached to the map. It read _"few ports of travel, no records found of departure."_

To say she was stressed was an understatement. Her thin, slender shoulders were knotted with tension, and she could feel pain coursing down her neck and arms the longer she sat and worked. Nothing had turned up from any of her scouts to the east, leaving only the north and the west…

Well, that is if her scouts hadn't missed anything.

A sigh of impatience escaped her lips. Not but a moment later, a heavy knock came from the doors to her study, and she lifted her posture immediately. Straightening her spine, she smoothed her long, flowing white hair before she spoke in a loud, powerful voice: "What business do you have?"

From the other side of the door, a woman's silky voice answered. "My lady, our soldiers at the border of Ylisse apprehended a fugitive from their lands. He has some information I believe may be useful to you…"

Unseen to her associate, her eyes glittered with excitement. Was this the break she'd been waiting for? How uncanny was it, that in this moment of doubt and pure agony, she might finally discover what she'd been searching for?

Without a reply, she exited her study. The dark-skinned woman outside bowed her head to her, but she did not return the favor. Silently, she waited as her associate escorted her through their castle's dark hallways until they reached a small, isolated chamber. Inside was the fugitive in question, with his hands and feet bound. Nothing struck her as odd about him though; he seemed like any average thug.

"What is your name?" she asked firmly.

The man shifted uncomfortably the moment she had walked in, but now, he clearly averted his gaze from hers to the floor. "Jonah," he finally uttered.

She crossed her arms. "Well then, Jonah, tell me what you have told my sorceress here."

He swallowed. "Well, ya see, me and me crew were ambushed by a group of noble Ylissean brats in the middle of the night. S'not uncommon for them to send in the kids for small groups like us, but this one was different. We'd taken the crown prince hostage and his friends came to get him. Took every one of us captive, 'cept for the boss and me."

Her lips were now pursed, annoyance clear on her face. "If you value your life, you will get to the point."

"Y-yes, I understand!" Jonah shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "Anyways, as I was sayin', they came back to get the prince boy. Only I thoughts it was strange, seeing as they had one of yours with em."

"One of… Ours?"

"Yeah, yeah, definitely one of you Plegian folk. Had the dark hair, dark skin and all that. Little brat couldn't have been older than fifteen or so, but he's the one that killed our boss. He killed him dead. Surprised me for 'ow scrawny he was. In all of that commotion though, I gave their group the slip. No way was I goin' to prison if I could help it."

She inhaled sharply. Her fingers clutched the skin of her arms tightly, anticipation and relief flooding her body as she heard the man speak. "And you said he was rescuing the Ylissean prince? Are you sure?"

"No mistake, ma'am. That noble boy had that fancy divine sword, and we took it from 'im in the woods. The Plegian kid was there then too."

Silence hung over the room. She processed the information carefully, knowing not to put too much stock in the words of such a lowly criminal. However…

"Ha… Ahaha!" She doubled over, laughing at what she had just learned.

"My… my lady?" the white-haired sorceress asked. Her voice was tinged with confusion "Is everything all right?"

"Oh Aversa, don't you see? Everything is perfect!" she cried out. "It all makes sense… Validar was always clever, always in the know about who would win any conflict you threw at him. Of course, when he found himself in danger, he'd hide by the strongest ally he could find. And low and behold, the fool picked Ylisse! In fact, he probably picked Ylissean _royalty_! He's been hiding behind a great shield all this time, and now, we've finally got the motivation to break it." She chuckled, making her way out of the room. "Oh, it has been too long since I've heard such good news… I think it's finally time to start working on a plan to put both Validar and that Ylissean Exalt into checkmate. And it's also time… To bring my son home."

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